


The Burning Age

by AuroraLynne, Sourlander



Series: Unknown Limits [13]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Art, Dameron Family Life, F/M, Force-Sensitive Finn, Gen, Jedi Training, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), May the Force Be With You, New Jedi Order, Padawan, Stormpilot, poefinn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 56,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10818921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraLynne/pseuds/AuroraLynne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourlander/pseuds/Sourlander
Summary: The Damerons lead a fairlly peaceful life on Chandrila. Poe's and Finn's daughter Mia is convinced that she has the best parents anyone could ask for and no one sees the shadows approaching, which are threatening to destroy the galaxy.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to make this readable for people who have not read the previous installments. If you haven't you should be okay.
> 
> This work is co-authored by [AuroraLynne](http://auroralynne.tumblr.com/) who always gives me incredible input and whose drawings made a lot of scenes in here possible! She was the inspiration for one of my OCs and she's the one responsible for Meelan having a family.

 

Only squinting revealed the outlines of the Old Jedi Temple on Coruscant for the first time viewer. Its tall towers being the most prominent feature and also the only thing the old structure had in common with the newer Imperial Palace, the blurred outline of the temple was hidden by almost unrecognisable shapes kept in shades of red.

            The artwork, a hologram three meters high and two metres wide almost looked like a doorway to the past looking back on the Republic’s history like a horrible nightmare. Nataleeh Kafr Bendar had met the artist only once, but he had made a lasting impression on her. He had been a Sergeant in the Resistance’s ground troops during the war with the First Order and had taken to studying history after the end of the armed conflict. He had known who she was of course, the wife of a former First Order officer who was currently being held in prison while she was passing the time in between visits by working in a gallery here in Hanna City on Chandrila and raising his children. Still Crinamol Antilles had been friendly towards her, even welcoming her input about choice of colouring and she couldn’t help but like the artist. She had found out later that Crinamol Antilles was the brother of the man who had talked to her son Morap all those years ago, after they had been captured by the New Republic. Still she had liked him, unable to defy someone as good at what he was doing. All in all, living in the New Republic wasn’t as bad as she had feared it would be, and living anywhere else, far away from her husband seemed impossible. Leaving the New Republic was out of the question.

            Taking another look at the almost indiscernible shape of a member of the Imperial Guard, Nataleeh turned her back towards the hologram and made her way towards the desk, passing the drawing of the Askija she had been allowed to put up here two weeks ago. Her employer, a Sullustan going by the name of Farrage Odoll had been fascinated by what she had shown him. Drawing on actual paper was out of fashion and had been for a long time, but ever since she had started working as an artist all those years ago, long before she met Meelan and Morap was born, she had always been more in favour of actually drawing directly with her hand, transferring her ideas onto something palpable like paper than anything else and she had never stopped drawing by hand. That had been exactly what Farrage had liked about it. It was unconventional and unconventional was exactly what Farrage was looking for in artists whose works he displayed and sold here at this gallery.

            When Nataleeh had started working here roughly seven years ago, she had only applied as someone familiar with works of art. Someone who had actually taught it at a school without mentioning where she had taught. Of course, her last name had given it away. Her entire background had been entirely clear to Farrage and still he had decided to let her work here. The fact that she had been born, raised and that she had lived in the First Order had only encouraged his decision to let her work for him, and he had called her history “eccentric” rather than “dangerous”. As time had gone by, everyone around her, her colleagues and her new neighbours seemed to have forgotten whose wife she was and where she had come from. Somehow it had worked out and she still couldn’t quite explain it, except that both Morap and Yoann, her youngest, had made living among these strangers and aliens easier. Working for a Sullustan alone, someone who wasn’t human, would never have never occurred to Nataleeh before she had to live here, but she had found that she wasn’t as bothered by his alienness as she would have thought.

            Of course, Meelan wasn’t with her and she missed him every single day, every morning when she woke up to find the bed next to her empty, or when either Morap and Yoann came to her to talk with her about a problem they had encountered in the course of their day. The first time Yoann had fallen and had been barely able to get up, his knee bleeding, she had felt as alone as never before. She needed him. Needed her husband by her side and there was nothing she could do to get him back. Especially now that Morap had left for the Jedi Academy in the Outer Rim.

            It had been three months since she had last seen her eldest son. She had hated seeing him go, though she knew of course that keeping him where he was just for her own sake was simply wrong. He had this talent which she couldn’t quite explain or understand but it had to be nourished. That had been clear from the day he had stolen that kyber crystal. Even Meelan had reluctantly encouraged his now sixteen-year-old son to take up the training he needed. The Jedi and their history were still suspicious to both Nataleeh and Meelan, but the very fact that Morap needed this education to learn to control what was happening had become apparent these last couple of years. Vivid dreams had slowly but surely turned into nightmares, not only troubling Morap but making him downright sick and he had kept his silence for so long, trying to shield his family from the things haunting him. Only half a year ago had Yoann woken her one night to drag her off to Morap’s bedroom, where the boy lay tossing and turning in his bed, soaked in sweat and whimpering. Heart beating rapidly in her chest she had tried to wake him, only succeeding to do so after several minutes.

            The dream had tortured him so often, so vividly, that after a while Nataleeh was sure that it was more than that. More than a dream. More than memory locked behind a veil of forgetfulness and imagination. This haunting was so much more and only then, when Morap had been unable to sleep for three days, had she contacted Nej Antilles, the man who had talked to her son all those years ago and had offered to take him to this new Jedi Academy. Morap talking to Antilles had not stopped those nightmares, but at least it had started him thinking of whether or not he himself should start on that path of studying the Force. Nataleeh didn’t like the idea one bit, but she felt that Morap, and maybe Yoann as well, needed to do this. For themselves. Like she had decided to draw and paint, they needed to make their own way and it certainly wasn’t the same way their father had chosen. They were both so different from him and yet so much alike. Their looks, their demeanour and their kindness reflected their father and she had been glad to have both of them around… at least for now.

            Three months ago, Morap had left to train with Skywalker and though she had heard from him, he letting her know that he was fine and that he was getting help with sleeping through the night, she missed him terribly.

            Waking up her workstation from stand-by mode, she moved on to check up on her messages to see if either a costumer, or maybe her son had written her. No such luck. Several orders for copies of works of art, a message conforming a vernissage taking place in four months’ time, but nothing from Morap.

            She blinked, when a new message came in. She recognised the name of the sender, but she hadn’t heard from him in years. Taking a deep breath, Nataleeh turned to look around the room. She was alone. People passing by the window didn’t even look at the gallery twice… as far as she knew she wasn’t being watched and hadn’t been for a long time. Somehow Meelan’s contacts had made it possible for her and her children to live a relatively normal life and at least she and Sadrina Kayla had been able to settle down here on Chandrila.

            Thinking a moment about whether or not she even wanted to read the message, she leaned back in her chair, staring at the datapad’s screen propped up in front of her. After taking two deep breaths, she decided that nothing bad could come out of reading Armitage’s message.

 

 

 


	2. Failure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry this took so long! I'm planning to update more regularly from now on! I swear! Uni and exams have kept me so busy and for a while there I couldn't even read for pleasure... But things are better now...

 

The circuit had backfired on the last and final step once again. For the third time in the last week, he found himself in the infirmary because he had failed at aligning the crystal with all the other parts correctly. Subsequently turning on the lightsaber had resulted in an explosion that had almost blown his hands to bits. Luckily, he had learned from his previous mistakes and ignited the saber with the help of the Force while it was hovering between his outstretched hands. Dipping them both into a dense solution of bacta had relieved the pain almost instantly luckily. He was only glad that his mother didn’t know about any of this. She hadn’t been too happy to see him go off to Luke Skywalker’s Jedi School, he knew, but then again, she had more or less asked him to come here, hadn’t she? She was the one who had told him to contact Nej Antilles after she had found out about the nightmares and how they wouldn’t stop.

            Morap still had nightmares, but they had become less frequent since Rey and Nej, occasionally even Luke had started instructing him in meditation. Since then the nightmares had lost some of their intensity, even though they had become clearer to him on some level. At least by now he recognized the people playing part in them for the most part and that helped.

            “You’ll be fine,” Hux said, eyes focused on the bacta strip on Morap’s palm. Given his history, Morap still found it hard to believe that he had been allowed to slip away from the Republic’s grasp. To see the former General of the First Order, the destroyer of the Republic’s Senate, working here in the infirmary in this newly founded Jedi temple here on Askija was weird somehow. The Republic had helped Luke in setting up this new school after the end of the First Order and ever since their numbers had started growing slowly but steadily. The institution had moved here a few years ago, since apparently this place was better suited for the Jedis’ purposes than any other world. Morap still didn’t fully grasp why it had to be this place, where his own father had set up base such a long time ago. The buildings of that base had been demolished by the Republic, but the ruins still remained. Morap had seen them when Antilles had taken him here half a year ago. The view had reminded him of the time he had spent living there, and for a moment he had been about to ask Nej to take him back to his mother and brother on Chandrila. They hadn’t been unhappy times exactly, but here he had lost his father and he hadn’t been sure he could bare the constant reminder. But he hadn’t asked. He had stayed, unwilling to give in to even one moment of weakness. And here he was. On Askija. There were about ten fully trained Jedi here already and twenty still in training taught by the other Jedi in a temple that couldn’t even be really called that yet. It was more of a base than anything else, their newly founded Jedi Order still being this small, there was no use erecting a major building like the one on Corouscant had been. It was just one big house with assembly rooms and smaller rooms used for meditation or studying, surrounded by several smaller buildings with living quarters and the infirmary. But there was still more living space here than there were people to fill it.

            And then there was Ren, or Ben as most people here called him. Broody, uncommunicative Ben with his scowl and that ability to find new potential padawan and Hux at his side. They too lived on temple property and Morap could only imagine what it must be like for Hux to live here. Not only among his former enemies, but also with people so entirely different from him. Everyone here was strong in the Force. Everyone except Hux. Maybe that was why he was still allowed to be here and not rotting in some prison cell? Because there was nothing he could do to harm anyone anymore? Morap still wasn’t sure, but there was something about the man to suggest that he wasn’t all that unhappy with his lot. Maybe because of Ben? Ben too, Morap had learned back on his father’s base on Askija, was a relic of the First Order. He had fought for Snoke, had been one of the Order’s most feared commanders.

            One day, Morap told himself, he would ask Rey what the deal with these two men was and how it had come that they lived here and seemed so different from the people he would have thought he’d meet after reading so much about them. But at least they were trying to make up for what they had done to the galaxy. On some level anyway. Ben by trying to find new people to join them here on this planet in the middle of nowhere on the edges of the Outer Rim, and Hux by working in the infirmary or with technical problems whenever he could. Hux had received some minor medical training in the First Order, no more than that, but so far, he hadn’t been overwhelmed by accidents, so he seemed fine doing what he did. Him taking care of students that had fallen sick or stepping in to repair malfunctioning equipment still seemed out of place with the image Morap had gotten of him before joining the Jedi here. The man who had given the order to fire the most dangerous of weapons simply couldn’t be the same man who had taken care of his burns several times already.

            “Thank you,” Morap said quietly, flexing his fingers to check that he really hadn’t damaged them permanently with the last accident.

            “Just try to be more careful.” Hux sounded exasperated. Like he couldn’t believe Morap’s stupidity, but Morap didn’t even feel like defending himself. What for? Hux was right.

            “I just can’t do it.” Still not meeting Hux’s gaze, Morap kept staring at his hand. He knew he lacked concentration. His mind wasn’t entirely focused on the task at hand, and that was why he had failed. He had read the instructions for building a lightsaber over and over again, and he _knew_ what he was doing wrong, he simply didn’t know how to work around this problem, and that was what was frustrating about this. “I am careful but this just keeps happening.”

            “Have you even considered asking for help?”

            Morap nodded and looked up tentatively. “I have, but we’re supposed to do this on our own. I have the instructions and I have to work with those.”

            “Says who?” Hux furrowed his brow and pulled up one of the chairs. With a heavy sigh, he sat down on it. He wasn’t as young as he had been in the holo vid Morap had seen of him at school on Chandrila. He must be more than fifty years old by now, Morap figured. About his father’s age. “I get that you want to do this alone,” Hux continued, “but why risk losing both of your hands in the process? That’s stupid. And from what I heard, the Jedi don’t really stick to all the rules. Not nowadays anyway.” He smirked slightly and shrugged. “Ask Ben if you have to? He’s not too fond of sticking to any of the rules they have around here.”

            Morap shrugged, even if he felt like approaching the dark figure who always seemed to be lurking in the background. But then again… what did he have to lose? He didn’t want to be thrown out of here after only six months only because he couldn’t concentrate hard enough. And somehow, he felt like Hux and Ben might be more sympathetic to his cause than Rey or Nej. Maybe getting help from people who had at least some connection to him through his father’s history wasn’t too bad. “Probably a good idea,” he conceded. “Thank you.” He got up, and looked down at his hand again. He needed help. And he needed to get his lightsaber ready. He’d give it another try as soon as he assembled all the necessary parts… again…

            Hux nodded briefly. “Sure.” He looked Morap up and down, and for a moment he seemed like he wanted to add something else, but managed to hold himself back.

            “My father served in the Order as well,” Morap said quietly, wondering whether or not Hux even knew or wanted to be reminded of it if he did. Probably not. The Order had been disassembled and the attempts of Morap’s father to keep living the way the people of the First Order always had, had failed miserably. Hux must know that. At least Hux knew that Morap’s father was serving a sentence in prison for kidnapping.

            “I know.” The corners of Hux’s mouth twitched, and he folded his hands. “I recognized your name. Both of them actually.”

            Morap raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. The Order had been huge. Could it be that Hux had actually known his father back in the day? “Your father beat me up once, when we were both still at the Academy. And your uncle… well he broke my nose.” He smiled openly now, no sign of resentment in his eyes, and as Morap stretched out his Force senses, he couldn’t feel any sort of deception coming from Hux that would cover up a lie. And why would he lie? Those had to be embarrassing memories for him.

            “I’m… sorry?” Morap tried, not entirely sure what to say in response to such a revelation.

            Hux nodded. “Boys can be stupid sometimes.” He shrugged. “Not sure I wouldn’t want to retaliate nowadays, but still. It happened a long time ago. I was about your age, I guess.”

            “Did you… were you on the same ship during the war?” Morap couldn’t help but ask. He had often wondered what his father had been like in the Order, though of course Morap had caught glimpses of the person lurking behind the mask of the family man he had shown Morap for most of his life. Those last days on the base here on Askija, when Meelan Bendar had been driven by the fear of losing everything.

            Shaking his head, Hux got up as well. “We were at the Academy together. Your uncle and I were in the same class as a matter of fact.”

            Morap nodded slightly. He knew his uncle’s story of course. How he hadn’t fit in. How he hadn’t been able to take it anymore and had run off to live in the New Republic. Hux must have hated him. But what was he supposed to say to Hux’s statement? He shrugged. “Thanks again for this.” He said, holding up his hand to show the bacta strip.

            “That’s what I’m here for,” Hux answered. “And go ask Ben before you try again.”

            “Ask me what?”

            Hux spun around and Morap couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at the wide grin suddenly spreading over Hux’s face as he saw Ben standing in the doorway. Hux still seeming surprised and overjoyed at the man’s presence after what must be years and years spent together, seemed off to Morap somewhat, but he’d never comment on that.

            Pointing his thumb at Morap, Hux picked up the tray of medical supplies he had used to take care of Morap’s injury. “This young padawan here wanted to ask you something.” He looked at Morap again, one eyebrow raised and then headed off to the cupboard to put away the things he hadn’t needed.

            “You did?” Something like a smile crept up on Ben’s face and he leaned against the doorframe. “That’s new. No one seems to be interested in asking me anything.”

            “Because you hate giving answers.” There was something of a sneer on Hux’s lips as he turned his head slightly to look at Ben. “That may be it.”

            Ben shrugged and then made an inviting gesture to Morap. “Shall we?”

            “Sure… just go.” Hux didn’t look at him anymore, but the resentment in his voice didn’t sound entirely genuine.

            “I’ll see you later.” Ben shook his head slightly, then turned to look at Morap again. The grey streaks in his hair and beard made him look older than he must be. Older than Hux anyway. But still they didn’t seem to take away any of the constant aura of keeping distant from everyone around him, except maybe Hux. The scar streaking across his face was only barely concealed by the beard nowadays, but it didn’t make him look inapproachable somehow.

            “Whatever,” Morap heard Hux grumble as he picked up what was left of his lightsaber and followed him outside. The wind had picked up since Morap had been taken in here by Nej about two hours ago. Fall was approaching fast and it wouldn’t be long now until the Askija, the creatures that had given the planet its name, would turn up here in hoards again. Something about this place seemed to draw them here and Morap couldn’t help but wonder whether it was perhaps all the people sensible to the Force that made them want to live here during winter time. There were always two to five of them in the immediate vicinity, but in the winter months they could be seen illuminating the sky at night with their shimmering scales.

            “What did you want to ask me?” Ben asked as they slowly made their way away from the infirmary building along the paved path that would lead them to the vegetable patch.

            Morap looked down at the kyber crystal in his hand and at what was left of the hilt. “I can’t do this,” Morap said quietly. “Hux told me to ask you for help.”

            Ben snorted. “Of course he did.” He shook his head slightly and than sat down on one of the benches, pulling his dark brown coat tightly about him as he did so. It wasn’t cold yet, but it would be soon enough. Morap could already smell it on the air.

            “So I shouldn’t ask for help?”

            Ben shrugged. “Depends on you really. Maybe there is something I could help you with if you want me to?”

            Swallowing hard, Morap sat down next to the older man and held up the kyber crystal. The only thing left intact after three tries of constructing his very own lightsaber. “I can’t concentrate. Not hard enough on what I’m doing anyway.”

            Ben was silent for a moment, then took the crystal out of Morap’s hand to observe it for a moment, holding it up against the fading light to look at the green gem. “This is yours… it can’t be that…”

            “What?”

            “This is yours… you and that crystal, you fit together somehow. You found it, right?”

            Morap nodded. “Years ago. It was my mother’s but she didn’t know what it was until I… um… took it?”

            A laugh Morap hadn’t quite expected erupted from Ben. He hadn’t heard him laughing. Never! Not once! And Morap had been here for half a year already. He had seen the older Jedi almost every day but this was new. How had it happened that the man he had seen in his nightmares so often, lashing out viciously at Rey with his lightsaber a look of utter desperation and anger in his eyes, was now sitting next to him, laughing? Morap had a vague idea of what may have triggered this change all those years ago, but he couldn’t be sure. The nightmares were still vague on some level, but he had always known the terrifying fear he felt when seeing those images in his subconscious hat very little to do with Kylo Ren somehow.

            “Well, the way you got your hands on it doesn’t really matter I suppose,” he said quietly but still smiling. “It belongs to you and that’s that.”

            “How can you tell?”

            Ben looked at him, eyebrows raised, and then put the crystal in his hand. “There’s a connection between you and this crystal. Don’t you feel it?”

            “I suppose…”

            “That may be it,” Ben answered. “You’re not sure about this crystal. I’ve seen you working and in training. You don’t have problems concentrating usually. Maybe it’s the crystal’s history that’s keeping you from completing this task.”

            Morap nodded slightly and looked down at the bright green crystal resting on the bacta strip on the palm of his hand. “My father gave it to my mother and shortly after I found it things suddenly went really bad.” He remembered all too well the circumstances under which he had first connected to the crystal. His friend Embee finding him in the woods, the two of them talking about it quietly, before all of a sudden they had found the Askija and how his father had been scared for Morap’s life and killed the animal without the slightest trace of hesitation. And then things had started going really wrong. Not long afterwards the Republic had found their base and imprisoned his father.

            With a thoughtful nod, Ben leaned back against the bench and folded his hands across his chest, suddenly a painful expression on his face, giving him a look Morap couldn’t quite grasp. “Think about that for a while, before you attempt at doing it again,” he said quietly. Maybe you’re angry at your father... maybe that’s what’s holding you back.”

            Morap nodded and stayed silent, keeping his eyes focused on the crystal. What Ben was telling him sounded right somehow. There had been so much about his father he hadn’t known until he had arrived on Chandrila and the history of the First Order had been forced upon him from the Republic’s point of view. He had resented it at first, but then, slowly but surely, his old doubts had emerged again, waves of regret and pain for those his father had hurt along the way to achieve what the Order wanted done. He had found out what his father had done. In the recording of his father’s hearing he had found out what Meelan Bendar had done to Poe Dameron in his position his questioner. It hadn’t been like his father had told him. He hadn’t just asked questions. He hadn’t just talked to the prisoners. Thinking about it even now brought tears to his eyes and he shut his eyes quickly so Ben wouldn’t see, though he probably felt it anyway. His father had tortured people to get the information the Order had needed. He had killed them if they were of no use anymore. Thinking about his father doing that to others was something he couldn’t fully grasp. Not even now. His father and that man Dameron had described weren’t the same person. They couldn’t be!

            “Being angry is completely understandable,” he heard Ben say and he slowly opened his eyes. His shoes had drawn two thick lines into the carpet of leaves on the grey stones. “It’s not good to be angry, but there you go. You can’t really help it and that’s fine.”

            Morap blinked. That at least wasn’t along the lines of ancient Jedi code he had read about during his studies here. “What?”

            Ben shrugged, his eyes trained on the main building with a vague smile on his lips. “It’s one thing drawing strength from that anger, letting it control you, or learning to live with it I suppose. But you can’t do that by pushing it far away from you. Anger means that there’s a problem you should try to solve.” His voice had gone thick somehow and he shook his head slightly.

            Turning the crystal over in his hand, Morap followed his gaze to the main building. The lights were already coming on and through the clear windows framed by white concrete, Morap could see the other students starting to lay the tables, while three of the Jedi were still training their combat skills a floor above. To their right the door of the infirmary building opened and Hux stepped outside, throwing them a quick look before making his way towards the small house he was sharing with Ren.

            The rough edges of the crystal against his fingertips felt as familiar as they had done the first day he had touched it. He had grown accustomed to carrying it around over the years and by now he couldn’t think of a day when he hadn’t held it in his hands. Ben was right. This crystal was perfect for him. He felt it. Deep inside. This crystal was meant to be the centrepiece of his weapon.

            “That’s actually what I came to talk to you about,” Ben said quietly and Morap turned to look at him again.

            “About what?”

            “We just received a comm message from your mother. Apparently your father is being released early at the end of the week.”

            Morap swallowed hard and leaned back as well, shoving his hands into his pockets. Digesting this particular piece of news would certainly take some time. “Why?” He had seen his father once every month since his sentence had been passed, even if as time had moved on he had felt more and more resentful towards the man who had ruined so many lives. He had gone to the prison as a favour to his mother and brother and of course to the man he had known as his father.

            “I have no idea.” Ben shrugged. “She wants you there when he arrives and Luke told me that if you want someone, probably me, could take you there. I have business on Chandrila on my own I have to take care of?”

            “What business?” Morap asked, trying desperately to steer the topic of conversation away from his father. He couldn’t face that right now. He needed some time to think, even if there wasn’t a real question about whether or not he should go. He had to go! For his mother’s sake alone! And he’d see Yoann again. That was something.

            Ben smiled weakly, a trace of sadness in his eyes. “Supplies…” he said quietly. “My mother.”

            Morap nodded slightly. He knew of course who Ben’s mother was. Everyone here on base did. He was Luke Skywalker’s nephew. The son of Leia Organa. Kylo Ren. He had never really dropped that name, had somehow accepted it as part of who he was, though Morap had no idea how that was possible. The whole concept of who Ben had been and what he had done and who or what he was now was too hard to grasp somehow. “Fine…” Morap answered shrugging. “I guess I should be there.” He tried to sound like he didn’t care, though he was sure that Ben could sense both his confusion concerning him and his reluctance to go.

            “And I should probably talk to your brother as well,” Ben added. “At some point.”

            Morap looked back towards the main building. The setting of the table was done. The Jedi training in the room above had stopped, probably heading off to take a shower before joining everyone else for dinner. “I guess so…” Morap mumbled, wondering how his father being out of prison would actually change his life at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment with feedback if you want ;)


	3. New Beginnins

 

 

The ship was old. Almost ancient. Morap couldn’t help but admire the seeming ease with which Ben managed to steer it, when it should indeed be incredibly hard to fly. He had heard the ship’s name before of course. Who hadn’t? The _Millenium Falcon_ was legendary! But still Morap wouldn’t have thought this most famous of freighters to be in such a miserable condition… at least from the outside. He didn’t understand anything about engines or any other kind of technical stuff, but the appearance of the _Falcon_ was far from encouraging.

            “What are you thinking about?”

            Morap flinched. He hadn’t sensed Ben approaching him. Morap was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat in the cockpit, watching the blue vortex of hyperspace. He was still holding the parts of the lightsaber he had to fuse together. “Just this ship,” he answered honestly, as Ben sat down in the chair next to him, checking the control panels.

            “Wondering how it’s still flying?” He smirked and threw him a look. “My father fixed it so many times and upgraded it as often as he could… this ship wouldn’t dare fall apart out of sheer respect.” The smile faded a little, revealing something Morap found hard to describe. Sadness? Remorse? Something like that certainly, but not quite. “Plus,” Ben added, “Hux checks it before and after every flight. He’s a pretty good engineer actually.”

            Morap nodded. The last part at least made sense.

            “How is it going with your saber?”

            “Fine I guess…” Morap muttered, looking down at electronics and power cells he had assembled in the hilt.

            Ben threw him a quick glance, looking down at the soon to be saber. “Looks good.”

            “It looked the same the last couple of times.” Morap couldn’t help but be disillusioned at this point. He hadn’t inserted the crystal yet and he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it while they were still flying through hyperspace in a ship that might give up on them at any moment.

            Ben shrugged. “Give it another try when things have calmed down maybe,” he said. “Talk to your father before you do anything else?”

            “Yeah, maybe.” Morap leaned back, feeling like he would never get this done. Like he was going to fail. Like he wouldn’t be able to do this, and then would never become a proper Jedi as a result. Luke might even throw him out? Who could tell.

            “Get ready, we’re dropping out in a few seconds.” Ben reached out towards the lever and gently pushed it away from him and the _Falcon_ almost slipped out of hyperspace like some sort of animal gliding into water. It happened smoother than Morap would have thought possible, and his astonishment must have shown on his face, because Ben chuckled.

            “Told you, Hux is a good engineer.”

“You said pretty good, actually.”

            “You’re pretty clever, aren’t you?” He laughed and steered the ship to the right to reveal the bluish green orb that was Chandrila and Morap felt his heart throb in his chest. This was his home. His family was waiting for him there. His … his father was waiting for him. Morap couldn’t help but think of those last moments he had spent with him on the base on Askija. The authority in his voice. The fear in his eyes which he hadn’t been able to hide. Meelan Bendar hadn’t seen the error of his ways, not even in the years that had passed since. But at least he had paid… maybe not enough, but he had paid.

            The ship approached the main spaceport of Hanna City. Morap spotted the huge passenger transports docked in a gigantic cluster to the east of the port, the main training facility of the New Republic’s navy a bit further out and about two dozen freighters and Starfighters assembled orderly to the right.

            When the _Falcon_ had finally landed, Morap saw Ben’s jaw muscles tighten. “So here we are…” he mumbled as he shut down the engines and stood up. Looking down at Morap, Ben seemed like he wanted to give him a speech of some sort, but he didn’t. “Keep meditating, alright? You can do this. Everyone has managed it so far, alright?”

            Morap nodded unenthusiastically as he followed the Jedi to the back of the ship to grab his duffel bag. “Thanks,” he mumbled, pulling the bag over his shoulder. “I’ll keep working on it… and try to talk to my father… and meditate… anything else? Learn how to fly an X-Wing? Become senator?”

            The quiet laugh from Ben made a wave of relief wash over him. “Don’t be so cheeky,” he grinned as he opened a cupboard and started rummaging through it. His sense was nervous somehow and he didn’t exactly try to hide it from Morap.

            “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, unsure of whether or not he was supposed to leave him alone.

            “Yes, I am…” Ben’s shoulders were tense, but he didn’t turn around to look at Morap. “You go ahead, someone’s waiting for you outside.”

            “Oh!” Meelan reached out with the Force, pushing his awareness past the boundaries of the room and the freighter. There were thousands of people in the vicinity… thousands…. But only one very close by. One person’s aura that made his heart leap involuntarily. He had never felt her consciously, but he recognized her straight away. How could he not?

            “Hey… be cool!” He felt a hand on his shoulder and only then did he realize that he had closed his eyes. Blinking he looked up at Ben who was so completely different from the other Jedi on Askija. “You’ll be fine.” Ben almost smiled at him and gently pushed him towards the exit. “See you in a week. You know how to reach me in the meantime if you need help.”

            Morap nodded. “Okay… thank you… or something. See you!” The strap of the bag cut into his shoulder, but the pain barely registered as he walked along the tunnel-shaped corridor of the ship to the loading ramp, which was lowered at the push of a button. Before the ramp had even reached the tarmac, he had set his feet on it, walking down as quickly as possible, suddenly elated at being back. Yes…he had missed his brother and his mother, but also Embee. He had tried very hard not to think about her, but the harder he had tried the harder it had become.

            “You look different!” Was the first thing she said, as she stood there at the foot of the ramp next to his mother and brother.

            Morap stopped in his tracks, as he saw his family standing there as well. His mother hadn’t changed a bit, he saw, her dark hair still immaculate, not a single hair on her head poking in a direction it shouldn’t, her dark green coat hugging her figure nicely, and a wide smile on her lips. Yoann next to her must have grown a couple of inches in the months they had been apart. The boy was the first one to move of course, running towards him and knocking the air out of him with a single hug. “You’re staying now, right?!” Yoann asked and Morap couldn’t help but laugh at this.

            “I am,” he said. “For a whole week!”

            “I’m glad you’re back,” his mother said, approaching him and Morap let her embrace her, while he kept his eyes trained on Embee. She had been the first one she had shown the crystal to, he remembered. The first one to see the green, soft light emanating from it.

            Nataleeh let go of him and his little brother followed suit, if grudgingly. “Your hair looks funny!”, he stated and Morap shrugged smiling.

            “It’s how a Padawan is supposed to look,” he said, brushing his hand over the short bristly hair with the funny looking short braid at the side. “It’s not supposed to be pretty.”

            “I kind of like it, actually,” Embee said as she drew closer herself, hugging him without further hesitation.

            He couldn’t help but notice the faint flowery scent and the traces of grease mixed in with them. She had been stealing off to a tech’s workshop in the neighbourhood for some time now, and this schoolyear she’d be allowed to choose engineering as a subject. Morap just knew that she’d do a great job. She had just turned fourteen and Morap was staggered by how different she looked from the girl he had left here a couple of months ago.

            “Your father is waiting at home. I didn’t want to bring him here.” Nataleeh smiled faintly, but didn’t elaborate. Morap understood what she was getting at. It probably really wasn’t a good idea to let Meelan Bendar roam the streets of Hanna City yet.

 

The trip from the small space port to their flat didn’t take more than half an hour and while Morap recognized all the little places he had grown to love, he felt like a complete stranger, when he saw them. Like he was seeing them for the first time in his life. What a ridiculous thought.

He kept his bag on his lap, clutching it tightly to his chest and feeling the bits and pieces which would one day make up his lightsaber through the fabric.

            Yoann was sitting in the back and kept asking questions. About the Jedi. About their history. About Luke Skywalker and the stories, he had heard back in school and Morap tried answering them as best he could, while his eyes kept fluttering back to Embee, who was merely listening and smiling to herself with the chattering Yoann next to her. What she was thinking, Morap couldn’t even begin to guess, though he did get a sense that she was excited about him being here. Excited and nervous for some strange reason.

            When his mother stopped the speeder in front of the slightly run-down apartment building, Morap’s eyes immediately zoomed up to the balcony from which he, his brother and mother had watched the Life Day fireworks almost every year. They hadn’t quite celebrated it themselves, their mother being unfamiliar with the concept of the festivity, but they had tried to make her play along. For Yoann’s sake anyway. The boy hadn’t exactly grown up with First Order customs and the more he adjusted to this new form of life, the better.

            “I’d better get home,” Embee said, when they had gotten out of the speeder. Her hand moved as though to touch his arm, but dropped to her side again as if she had changed her mind in the blink of an eye. “See you tomorrow!”

            “Yes,” Morap said, smiling slightly while his heart was pounding in his chest. “Tomorrow.” His voice didn’t sound too confident. And he wasn’t. Not about being able to see her the next day, but about what was waiting for him in their small apartment.

            “Thank you for coming along, Mara Blanche.” Nataleeh nodded slightly and turned towards the front door, just as Embee shrugged and took a step back.

            “Well then…” she said, before shrugging and walking off towards the house in which she lived with her mother.

            “It’s so great father is living with us now, right?” Yoann was smiling broadly, but Morap couldn’t quite bring himself to return his little brother’s smile. It was very likely after all, that the boy hadn’t heard of the crimes the First Order had committed yet, or what their father’s role in the Order had been. Unlike Morap, little Yoann had grown up adoring his absent father, probably even idolizing him. Of course their mother had told him that his father had done something bad for which he had been sent to prison, but as far as Morap knew, she had never gone into detail.

            “Yeah…” Morap said quietly, putting his arm around the younger boy by his side as they followed their mother to the front door. How was she taking it? Morap remembered her being involved in Meelan Bendar’s operation, even remembered her erasing the memory from all the computers, thus destroying all evidence against her husband. She had most likely saved his life and that of every member of their operation when she had done that. Morap remembered his parents being happy together, before all hell broke loose on that fateful day seven years ago, but how did she feel now about having her husband back? After all she had built a life here. She had spent the better part of a decade living without her husband. Having him back must feel alien to her, but Morap didn’t pick up any sense of irritation from her.

            They had to take the elevator to the apartment on the tenth floor and the whole ride, Morap had to remind himself that he should be grateful about having his father back in his life. That his father had never hurt him and had only ever tried to do what was best for him. He had tried… and failed. The First Order had been the enemy of so many, had hurt so many people… how could his father have continued serving them even after its demise? After even Hux had surrendered to Skywalker. The circumstances of that didn’t even matter to Morap at this point. All he knew was that his father had fought a losing battle and he had done bad things in the process. He had ordered people to be killed, to be enslaved. He had robbed other people of their livelihoods and he hadn’t paid for it. Not in the least. He had been sentenced for the abduction of two citizens of the Republic.

            Morap barely held back a desperate sigh as his stomach twisted into a painful knot. No, he didn’t want his father to suffer. What he wanted was justice. For his father to see the error of his ways. But from the few times Morap had seen his father these past few years, he hadn’t appeared to be in an overly thoughtful mood.

            The door of the lift opened in front of them. Their apartment was only a few metres away now and even though Morap reminded himself not to start spying on the people around him, he could sense that the person waiting behind the door for them was nervous. Anxious even. To see him? Morap couldn’t tell…

            His father was standing in the narrow hallway, staring at his family like he’d never seen them before. His eyes glistened and he wiped the tears away, seemingly unnerved by their sudden appearance. Nataleeh put a hand on his shoulder as she walked past him, Yoann now on her other hand. Her intention was all too clear. She wanted to give father and son some space. Some time to adjust to the situation.

            Morap let his bag fall to the ground, forcing himself to return his father’s gaze, who looked so different in regular civilian clothes. The grey prison uniform had made him look pale and much too thin. The black shirt and grey trousers fit him much better. The soft _thud_ of the bag as it hit the ground was the only sound within the small hallway for what seemed like an eternity. Taking a shuddering breath, Morap started walking towards his father.

They were almost the same height now. Morap remembered realizing the very same thing when they had last seen each other in that bare visitation room in the prison, but now that he was facing his father inside the small apartment he called home, he felt his heart sink.

His father smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Even his eyebrows had turned grey. “You’ve grown so much,” he whispered and put his hands on Morap’s shoulders. They felt heavy and warm. At the same time that Morap wanted to push them away, he wanted to pull his father close.

“You’re old.” Morap blinked the treacherous tears away. “How… how are you?”

Meelan laughed softly and pulled Morap into a bone-breaking hug. “I’m home.”

 

Talking to his father had been impossible. Feigning exhaustion from the journey, he managed to avoid all conversation all through dinner. Not that there was a lot of conversation. Everyone seemed to be eye Meelan, as if expecting him to say anything. For him to comment on the food or ask Morap about his Jedi training… but nothing.

            Halfway through dinner Meelan got up to stand on the narrow balcony and stare out into the night. He had barely spoken a word since Morap had entered the flat.

            “What’s wrong with Dad?” Morap heard his little brother ask.

            “Your father has never been in a situation like this,” Nataleeh answered.

            Morap stopped and leaned in the doorway. He had just brushed his teeth and had passed the glass door leading out to the balcony. Meelan was still standing there, hands behind his back, an aura of nervousness and rising panic emanating from him. Morap could feel it and it made _him_ nervous in return.

            “You mean…”

            “Without a goal…” Morap answered, his voice hoarse. Nataleeh looked up with a start, here eyebrows raised almost threateningly. “With… without a job,” Morap said quickly, giving his mother a shrug. “And he was gone for so long, he’s not used to us.”

            Nataleeh’s look didn’t soften. Not a good sign. Raising his hands in apology, Morap started moving backwards. “Everything will be fine,” he said quietly. “I’m sure. Good night.”

            He retreated to his room as quickly as possible and flung himself on the bed next to his bag. Despite the fact that he enjoyed being back with his family, he couldn’t deny that he might have been happier right now, had he stayed with Skywalker. He’d be studying now, working hard on his skills with the Force, but it would also have meant a decision to run away from family responsibilities. Yoann needed him here. His mother too probably needed him to be here and even after every single bad thing he had learned and accepted about his father, Morap couldn’t help but feel sad for him.

            Sad that Meelan Bendar had nothing to say to his family. Sad that his eldest son couldn’t look him in the eye for more than a second. Sad that he had no purpose in life, now that the First Order was finally gone and all those people he had assembled around himself had found somewhere else to live. Someone else to be. The Order, and with it the Empire was gone and he had missed the process of its demise by being forced to watch it from afar. The isolation hadn’t been absolute, Morap knew, Meelan had been allowed to receive visits from his family and he had been provided with means to get news from outside the prison, but he had been unable to interfere with the world. In a way, he had been a paralyzed onlooker while he had been forced and able to act his entire life. And now that he was back in play all his resources but his family had been taken from him.

            Morap knew that his mother had transferred the money his father’s organization had bunkered to a safe account but thus far she had been unable to access any of it. They couldn’t risk anyone realizing the Bendars had stored away vast sums of money and if he was honest, Morap didn’t even want it. For all he cared it could rot in that bank and he’d be all the happier because of it.

            With a sigh, he reached over to the bag and opened it. Ben had told him that he should talk to his father and right now Morap wondered when he’d actually get the chance to do so. His mouth certainly wasn’t obeying when his father was nearby. Not properly anyway. He sat up and took out the semi-finished lightsaber and the crystal. Looking at them made him feel sick. Ben had faith in him. And Ben had somehow made it, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he been an operative of the First Order? Just like Hux? Why shouldn’t his father be offered the same opportunity?

            He didn’t have to think long to find the answer. Neither Ben Solo, nor Armitage Hux were redeemed. On the contrary. They were in hiding in Skywalker’s school. The only thing keeping them alive and more or less free were Skywalker’s secrecy and Organa’s doings. And while they were trying to be useful on Askija, they weren’t exactly welcome there. Morap had sensed it even without being fully trained. People avoided the both of them. All, except Skywalker, who at least talked to Ben on occasion and Rey, who worked with him if need be. Hux was a complete outsider, not only because he wasn’t sensitive to the Force but also because of who he was… because of what he had done and no amount of remorse could ever possibly make that go away.

            Was Meelan going to share Hux’s fate? Being allowed to live, but live apart from the rest of the world under the pretence of being free?

           


	4. The Damerons

 

 

The new quetarra looked too big on Mia. But she was so proud of her instrument and he wasn’t going to ask her to exchange it for her old one, only because it was a better fit. She had seemed gloomy these last couple of weeks and this gift had cheered her up considerably.

            The sounds she managed to extract from her the wooden corpus were still a bit shaky and he could see how much effort it took her to move her little fingers along the fret, trying to bridge the distance between the eight strings, tongue stuck between her teeth in concentration.

            Poe smiled slightly and folded his hands on top of the upper bout of his own instrument. “You want to practice on your own?” he asked and Mia simply nodded, while her right hand danced across the eight strings at a slower pace than they were used to.

            “Alright, pumpkin,” he said and got up. Ace looked up from where he was lying in the warm sunlight streaming in through the window and then rolled onto his back smacking noisily. Well, if the dog didn’t complain about Mia’s experiments on her instrument, Poe wasn’t going to stop him being with her in her room.

            Smiling to himself Poe remained standing in the doorway as Mia kept pulling the strings, the look of deep concentration still on her face. She had gotten the quetarra for her birthday. He remembered all too well the day she had been born. The day she had lost her entire family but gained two fathers at the same time. She didn’t know the precise circumstances yet, but he knew that one day the answer “You momma passed away the day you were born,” wouldn’t suffice. That one day she’d realize that something else was wrong. That there was bound to be more. And that day would come sooner rather than later. She was seven years old. How much longer could she wait to have her questions answered?

            “Hey! You said you were gonna leave me alone!” She frowned at him pouting and he raised his hands in surrender.

            “I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” he said as he retreated and almost stumbled over Beebee-Ate. The droid beeped disapprovingly, then peeked into the room to check up on Mia the way he always did before rolling back to his socket. Shaking his head, Poe moved on to the next door, leading into his and Finn’s bedroom. He was expecting to see Finn sitting on the bed, deep in meditation, the way he always did after work, but he was lying flat on his back, legs still crossed as if he had given up on meditation in exasperation.

            “Hey, what’s up, buddy?” Poe asked, stepping into the room and sitting down on the bed next to Finn.

            “You heard about Bendar getting out?” Finn asked, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

At forty his hair was starting to grey slowly but surely. It had started at the temples roughly half a year ago and as he lay there on his back, Poe saw the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes for the first time. He raised a hand and gently stroked Finn’s hair.

“I heard,” he muttered, placing a kiss on Finn’s forehead. “Weird he’d get released a couple of days before Mia’s birthday, huh?”

Finn nodded. It had taken him a while to get accustomed to having to raise his sister’s child. A sister he had never met on top of all things. They had gone to Birken Six seven years ago looking for Finn’s parents and had walked in straight into a massacre. Bendar’s people had attacked the mining outpost, because they had failed to send his organization the requested amount of produce. The entire settlement had been obliterated, leaving behind nothing but rubble and survivors unwilling to speak up in court against Meelan Bendar. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway… Bendar hadn’t committed any crimes on Republic territory and therefore he had only been held accountable for the kidnapping of Poe and Finn. The outcome hadn’t been satisfactory for either Poe _or_ Finn, but there had been nothing left for them to do but accept the judge’s verdict. And now Bendar was free again.

“Isn’t his boy a padawan now?”, Poe asked, moving his hands to massage Finn’s temples.

Finn nodded. “I saw him, when I was there the last time,” he said quietly and shrugged. “Seemed okay.”

“Well…” Poe said as his fingers moved in circles over Finn’s skin, “Let’s just hope you don’t have to see him.”

Finn pressed his lips together and looked at Poe for the first time since he had sat down. His hands shot upward to grab Poe’s arms. “I was thinking…” he said, his thumbs stroking Poe’s arms and he sat up, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position. He reached for Poe’s hands again and then placed his thumbs on his wrists.

“What?”

“Well… maybe it’s time for Mia to go to Skywalker with me… not… not permanently if she doesn’t want to, but… you know… for a while.”

Poe pulled a face. It took him a moment to figure out how he felt about Finn’s suggestion and did his best to fight down the immediate fear rising up inside of him. He wasn’t going to lose Mia, just because she had the Force and was going to train to be a Jedi… this was not about her becoming one of those Force users, or about her having to be near Hux and Ren, but about her learning to control her abilities. Not that she had shown any obvious signs of being Force sensitive, at least none that were visible to Poe. Finn had told him however that he felt her connection to the Force on certain occasions.

“I’ll have to think about it,” he answered quietly, unwilling to promise anything he could be held accountable for. Despite the cake they’d had once Finn had got home in the early afternoon he was hungry and this really wasn’t something they should decide straight away.

Finn nodded. He had expected Poe’s reply.

“I’m going to make dinner.” Poe leaned in, kissing Finn briefly on the lips. “And stop worrying about Bendar. Nothing we can do about it until we get him in a deserted alleyway.” He grinned despite himself and the smile Finn gave him was all he needed for now.

“Okay.” Finn’s hands squeezed his wrists. “Need some help?”

“Sure.” Despite his best efforts, Poe had never managed to be as good at cooking as Finn. His skills had improved considerably, but Finn still had this certain something which made every meal fantastic. He pressed a quick kiss on Finn’s forehead and got up from the bed.

“What’re we making after all that cake?” Finn asked smiling as he followed Poe down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Well… I have no idea to be honest… we have some vegetables here though. Might be a good idea after all the junk Mia’s had today.”

Finn’s smile was breath-taking as usual. Somehow Poe had never thought it would keep its effects for ever, but it had. Even after seventeen years, it made him want to fall to his knees to thank some unnamed deity for bringing this smile into his life.

Poe opened a set of drawers to get out cutting boards and knives and they started working, their shoulders occasionally bumping into each other as they moved about and cut up the vegetables. The soft clanking of the quetarra from upstairs had become a bit more rhythmic, but it would still take her a while to get used to this new size.

“It’s weird that it’s been seven years, isn’t it?” Finn asked, as Poe put the diced-up root into a casserole.

“Yeah…” Poe mumbled. “Sometimes I forget what happened that day, but it comes back regularly…” The old woman, Finn’s grandmother, had basically thrust the girl into their arms on her deathbed. So much grief and so much hope had rolled over the both of them at the same time… so much had happened.

“Especially on her birthday.”

“Especially on her birthday.” Poe nodded, leaning against the kitchen counter. They had this conversation once a year at least. Mia becoming part of their life had been sudden and unexpected, but the fact that they loved her dearly and considered her their daughter didn’t change the fact that her parents were dead and they were merely substitutes. Hadn’t they been on Birken Six that day, hadn’t they been in that medical tent, Mia would have most definitely wound up in an orphanage. Had the Republic not shown up to try and help the population of that unfortunate planet, she may have very well died. So many things could have gone wrong after everything had already been blasted to bits.

“I’m glad we were there, though,” said Finn and without another word, Poe wrapped his arms around Finn from behind. Finn was her blood. Finn and Mia shared a bond Poe could never have a share in, but he didn’t care. He never had, really.

“You know…”, Poe muttered, lips pressed to Finn’s neck, “I think we were all damn lucky that day.”

 

Poe almost forgot to lock the speeder before he started running towards the school building. His heart was hammering in his chest, as he told himself to slow down. He didn’t want to appear pathetic stumbling through the school looking for his daughter when he didn’t even know exactly why he had been called here.

            Taking a deep breath in front of the main entrance, he reminded himself that the teacher calling him hadn’t mentioned Mia being hurt.

He had mentioned an incident.

Nothing more.

Still… this had never happened before and Poe would be damned if he wasn’t allowed to be worried.

            An incident… an incident involving Mia. As soon as he had heard the news, his mind had started racing. Mental images of Mia lying on the ground of the gym bleeding and unconscious and of her crying silently in a corner had launched themselves at him without him being able to suppress them. He had only barely managed to leave a message for Finn in case he got home early. Who could tell when they’d be back home?

            The familiar smell of educational institutions which, in Poe’s experience, didn’t vary across the galaxy, was the first thing he registered when he entered the building. It smelled clean and stuffy at the same time. In the corner, he could see a cleaning droid starting its rounds. The school day wasn’t over yet, but the last break must have ended a short while ago. He could still see wrappings of various food products lying on the ground.

            Without hesitating another moment, he turned right and went up the flight of stairs along the big window. He had been here a few times only and never in the morning. Passing one of the classrooms on the second floor, he heard a sonorous voice droning on about algebra and he started walking faster in the direction of the headmaster’s office, his pulse refusing to slow down.

            He pushed open the door to the secretary’s office without pausing to knock. “I’m Poe Dameron. You called about my daughter.” Poe looked around, not paying any heed to the blue-skinned Pantoran sitting behind the stark white desk. Mia wasn’t here. Not a good sign. “Is she in the nurse’s-“

            “She’s with Mr Gogall,” the Pantoran interrupted him and got up from his chair.

            Poe felt a weight drop off his shoulders. So she wasn’t hurt.

            “What happened?” he asked, turning towards the door to his left but before he could reach it, the door flew open and Mia ran towards him, her dark curls flying around her head. She flung herself at him, pressing her face to his stomach.

            No… no she wasn’t hurt. At least he hadn’t seen any blood. Gently he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away, kneeling in front of her and taking her face into his hands. The tears staining her skin and the bloodshot eyes almost made him whimper. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his thumbs wiping away the tears which were almost immediately replaced by new ones. The sight made his chest ache.

            “Mister Dameron, would you please join me in here?”

            Poe looked over Mia’s shoulder at the white-haired man standing in the doorway and his heart contracted painfully. He had made Mia cry. Poe was sure of it and the thought alone made him want to jump up and slam the thin body against the wall.

            Mia sniffled softly and Poe pressed his lips to her forehead. Her skin was hot, almost feverish. He hadn’t seen her cry in a long time.

            He reached into his pocket and produced a large white handkerchief with which he wiped her face before paying any more attention to the headmaster or the secretary.

She blinked, her lips twitching. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and Poe scowled at her. Why was she apologizing, when she was the one reduced to tears? He couldn’t see another child or another parent anywhere nearby. “They wouldn’t believe me,” she said quickly and almost inaudibly, her voice hoarse and her words interrupted by sobs. “I’m sorry!”

“What for?” he asked softly, pushing the handkerchief into the palm of her hand.

“Would you please come in? Mia can stay here while we talk.”

Mia’s grip on his shirt, which he hadn’t even registered until now, hardened and he shook his head. She didn’t want him to leave her alone. What in the name of all the stars had happened here?!

“Do you want to come inside with me?” Poe asked, wondering if it might not be better to take her home first and then return to give the headmaster a proper talking-to once Finn got home to take over with Mia. But no. That would take too long and Mia’s eyes told him that she didn’t want him to leave her side even for a second. He nodded and got up, taking her hand at the same time. She insisted that she was too big for this sort of thing now, and the fact that she didn’t pull away was yet another indicator of how scared she was. “Come on, then,” he said in a low voice, wishing he could whisk her up in his arms and carry her.

Frowning at Subal Gogall, he entered the office, every muscle in his body tense with anger and hurt. His little girl was crying. Not only that. She was terrified. Scared… Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down on one of the two chairs in front of the headmaster’s desk and only barely resisted the impulse to put Mia on his lap and pull her close to his chest like he would have done before she started school.

The door shut behind them and Poe watched as Gogall walked around the desk. He looked stern, even severe in his dark grey tunic and black trousers. Back when he and Finn had decided to send Mia to this school, everything had appeared warm and welcoming. Now everything seemed to be strangely distant and overly sterile here, despite the colourful drawings made by children on the wall.

Poe kept his eyes fixed on Gogall, Mia’s hand still in his.

“So?”

“So.” Gogall cleared his throat and looked at Mia, who seemed to shrink under his gaze. “Do you want to tell your father what happened today?”

Mia shook her head and sank even lower into the stiff-backed chair.

“Why don’t you just cut the crap and tell me yourself?” He had never spoken to one of Mia’s teachers like this, but he was furious and exhausted. Just seeing Mia like this seemed to drain all the energy out of him.

Raising an eyebrow, Gogall reached beneath his desk and pulled out a drawer. “Mr Dameron… do you recognize this item?”

The cylindrical object he produced made Poe’s heart miss a beat. He blinked, his throat going horribly dry, while Mia’s hand felt fragile and small in his. He tried swallowing but to no avail as the headmaster placed the object in front of him.

Finn’s lightsaber glinted softly in the sunlight streaming in through the window.


	5. Contemplation

 

 

Yoann was sitting on the bench next to him, his legs crossed and his eyes fixed on the city stretching out in front of them. Occasionally, Meelan felt his son’s eyes on him, but as long as Yoann didn’t speak, Meelan wouldn’t either. Behind them, he could hear Nataleeh cleaning up the kitchen. She was relieved to have him back to do the cooking, she had told him a few times already and he had smiled every time she had said it, but the dull feeling in his chest remained. He didn’t feel like he had a place here. Not that he had expected he would.

            Meelan felt his son move closer and lean against him. He only hesitated for a split second before he put his arm around his youngest son. He had never been able to do this properly and he had missed his family every day he had been in prison. The bony shoulders felt unfamiliar against his chest, but he pulled the boy closer nonetheless. He had missed out on so much and he had realized some time ago that his relationship to Morap had been damage beyond repair by the time they had spent apart. Morap had grown accustomed to the Republic’s way of life and consequentially to hate the beliefs his father had wanted him to adapt back before their life had been destroyed.

            Over the years, Meelan had had time to think and he had realized that while the fallen First Order had been all he had ever known, he could no longer centre his life around that broken system. It had worked once and it had been worth fighting for it, but his newly-found organization had been too small, too insignificant to survive longer than it had. Maybe he should have started looking for another way of life… maybe… but it was too late now and he had to learn to appreciate what he had. Yoann, Morap and Nataleeh were all he had left and he’d try to make the best of it. One day maybe, Morap would be able to talk to him again…

            When he remembered what their relationship back at their base had been like and how his eldest son looked at him today, he felt his insides clench. Morap had been his boy then, but now Morap was almost grown up. Sixteen years old and no longer a boy, but a young man. He was going to become a Jedi. At another time his son would have been his enemy…

            Meelan pressed his lips to Yoann’s head, barely able to hold back the tears welling up inside of him. He didn’t know his sons. They had spent too much time apart…

            Every morning Nataleeh kissed him goodbye before going to work, Yoann went to go to school and Meelan was left alone. It was like it had been in prison. He couldn’t even go out, afraid that he’d be recognized though he knew no one would pay too much attention to him. Reason and irrational fear clashed violently whenever he made a move towards the front door. One day he’d have to leave this sanctuary, this new prison he had made for himself, but that day had not yet come… His contacts in the New Republic’s government had managed to keep his trial short and his sentence mild, and he was sure that they had something to do with him getting out early, but so far no one had contacted him.

            “Dad?”

            “Hm?” Meelan looked down at his son, at the brown, reddish hair glinting softly in the light streaming out through the living room window.

            “Are you okay?”

            Meelan let go of his son and smiled down at him. His heart contracted painfully, but he managed to hold the smile on his lips. “Why do you ask?” He thought he knew the reason, but he didn’t feel like discussing right now.

            “You look sad all the time,” Yoann answered and Meelan shrugged.

            “I don’t have a place here, do I?” he said with a sigh. “But I’m gonna find something. I’m going to find work. I promise you.” He cringed inwardly at the mere thought. He had been an officer in the First Order, his main job being the acquisition of information, then he had been the head of a big smuggling ring. What was he possibly supposed to do now in a world, which wasn’t his anymore?

            Yoann nodded, but when their eyes met, Meelan could see the doubt on his son’s face. “Your place is with us.” The matter-of-fact tone of voice almost managed to lift the heavy weight off Meelan’s shoulders. But not quite.

            “Thank you, Yoann,” he said and kissed his forehead. “I think it’s time for bed now, though.”

            Yoann nodded and got up. “Good night, Dad.”

            After Yoann had gone inside, Meelan felt the cold all of a sudden now that the warm body wasn’t pressed against his side anymore. Arm on the back of the bench, he looked over his shoulder to watch his son disappear into his room. Natalie caught his eye and smiled. The expression on her face made his mouth go dry. She still appeared to be comfortable around him, but somehow these past few years he had forced on her made him feel guilty. She too had always been loyal to the Order and their life had centred around it. She had told him that living here in Hanna City meant safety and that she even liked her job and the people she worked with, but that didn’t manage to console him. He wasn’t part of her world anymore. Not really. He had to find a way to stand on his own two feet again, and soon.

            Meelan turned to look out at the city again, at the lights twinkling and the speeders rushing by over the rooftops. Hanna City wasn’t as big as many other capitals in the galaxy were, but it was big enough for people to vanish in the crowd, he guessed. Maybe that would be the way to go. To get a menial job and try to forget everything he had stood for once. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like such a burden anymore. Maybe then, Morap would learn to respect him again.

 

The dream had changed.

            Somehow, something had happened to transform it… the pictures were sharper now and more vivid. He could practically feel the heat creeping up his legs, while the icy wind whipped his face. The exasperated cry of the man he had become so accustomed rang in his ears.

            Morap whirled around. There it was again. The woman with her double-bladed green lightsaber was standing over the man. Ben…. It was Ben.

            And the woman was Rey. The fierce look on her face made Morap want to pull back, even though he knew exactly what would happen next. The man was kneeling at her feet, dark red lightsaber still ignited, but unwilling to wield it. The red glow of the blade, made him look older than he was, Morap realized. He was defeated. Not only physically, but mentally as well. Behind them, he could see another figure approaching, but the golden plasma didn’t manage to illuminate the stranger’s face. Not yet.

            “Do it!” Morap heard the other man say again, when another person rushed by and, ignoring the threat posed by Rey’s weapon, fell to her knees in front of Rey’s victim. She reached up. Touched his cheeks, seemingly unconscious of the mortal danger she was in. His face hardened, but only as long as it took for the woman’s tears to drop into the unsteady plasma blade, making it hiss dangerously.

            Ben was alone. Alone, surrounded by enemies and in front of someone who wanted him. Who needed him. Who was offering help. Morap couldn’t make out the words the woman was saying, but he felt their intent.

            Morap sank to his knees, watching in astonishment, as Rey dropped her lightsaber.

            And then the scene changed. Became charged up with a power he couldn’t comprehend. As though a current was running through his veins. As though everything around him had turned to searing heat. As though the very movement of blood through his veins was palpable all of a sudden.

            He choked, gasping for air. There was nothing but darkness around him. Darkness and searing pain spreading over his skin and running deep within him. There were no more voices. No more pictures. The sensations became more and more intense until they blurred into one. A deep sound resonating in his very bones, keeping him still and frozen in place, until he finally, mercifully woke up with a gasp.

            It took him a moment to take in his surroundings and realize where he was. Back at the Academy. Morap counted down from ten, forcing his mind to settle on the present. On the warmth beneath his blanket and the silence in his room.

            He had returned here two days ago with Ben. The rest of the time spent with his family had been calm and strangely peaceful, though he could in no way say when he’d ever be able to feel comfortable around his father again. At least he had been able to spend some more time with Yoann. And then there was Embee of course…

            Morap shifted uncomfortably and sat up on his narrow cot. Thinking of Embee wasn’t getting him anywhere, except that it helped him to push back the cold still holding on tightly to his heart. He shut his eyes tightly, crossed his legs and tried not to think of the dream, but of his family

            That Yoann might very well be Force sensitive as well had been clear to Morap. These things seemed to run in a family and Yoann always picked up on moods very quickly. His intuition was marvellous, though Morap had to admit that he hadn’t expected his younger brother to be invited to the Academy shortly after he himself had started here. When Ben had turned up at their flat, a determined look on his stern face, Morap had known what was to come.

            Yoann had declined the offer for now and in a way Morap was grateful for it. Yoann was so attached to their mother and had become so close to their father over the few days Morap had been there that Morap doubted it was a good idea to separate the boy from them at this precise moment in time.

            Ben… Ben had been in his family’s apartment, had talked not only with Yoann, but also with his parents. Neither Meelan, nor Nataleeh seemed to know who he had been during the war, or if they did, they pretended not to know. Morap couldn’t be sure, but what he did know was that the Ben who had accompanied him from Chandrila back to Askija wasn’t the same man he saw in his dreams anymore. He wasn’t the beaten down enemy of the Jedi. He wasn’t helpless… He was lonely, yes, but he was calmer. Less desperate… what had happened to him precisely Morap didn’t know and he didn’t dare to ask, but he had the strange feeling that whatever had happened, wasn’t over. Not yet. Not even fifteen years after the end of the war.

            He had told Skywalker and Rey about his dream, though he hadn’t let them know that he had started recognizing two people in it and realized that the third figure wielding a lightsaber looked familiar as well. Should he tell them? But what use would it be? He wouldn’t help anyone and he certainly didn’t want to bring up something no one in their right mind could be comfortable talking about. Rey and the other Jedi had fought Ben once. They had defeated him but before being able to strike him down, someone else had intervened and Ben had surrendered. What had happened that things seemed to be alright now? Well... maybe not alright, but at least they got along. Ben even held a position in the new Jedi Order.

            Morap blinked as the first rays of sunlight started streaming in through the window and he couldn’t help but smile, when he saw the Askija, the creature which had given this planet its name, soaring up into the air, it’s green scales glistening.

A new day had broken. There were things he had to think about now. Things he needed to work on. With a reluctant sigh, he looked at the pieces of the lightsaber to his right. He still hadn’t proceeded on to the next step. He wasn’t ready…

Already he could hear the people in the rooms to his right and left getting ready for the day, but he let himself fall back onto the cot. During meditation, his mind would surely drift back to the dream and the scene which had followed. The conflict he had witnessed he could deal with, but this strangely cold and suffocating darkness was not something he wanted to remember. So he closed his eyes and started to think of something else… a happier memory might distract him enough.

 

Everything was dark. His parents’ bedroom door was closed. They had spent a long time talking, but Yoann hadn’t managed to fall asleep. He didn’t feel tired and he doubted he’d be able to close his eyes anytime soon.

            He crept into the small kitchen and found what he was looking for within seconds. Clutching the icy bucket close to his chest, he moved across the living room to the balcony, pushed the door open as quietly as he could and slipped outside. The summer was drawing to a close, but it was still relatively warm.

            Yoann sat down on the bench, and peeled the cover off the bucket of ice cream he had brought with him outside. He and Morap had spent several hours out here like this and as Yoann scooped up a spoonful of the sweet, sticky substance, he wondered if he’d be able to do this again if he decided to join Morap hat his Jedi school after all? He missed his brother, but he’d miss his parents and his home even more if he went now.

            With a sigh, he plopped the spoon into his mouth and shuddered at the cold spreading through his mouth. He was happy here, wasn’t he? And hadn’t Morap had those weird dreams, his brother would still be here, too.

            Stretching out his legs, Yoann leaned back, wondering if those strange dreams might trouble him one day as well. Would the only solution be to go away from here, then? Yoann closed his eyes with a scowl, spoon stuck between his lips. Try as he might, he couldn’t clear his head of all thought, the way Morap had taught him the Jedi had to when meditating. This Ben character had told him he had the Force, too, but shouldn’t Yoann be able to close his mind to the outside? Probably.

            Yoann shook his head and took another spoonful of ice cream. What was Morap doing now? Was he as restless as he had been all the time when he was here? Could he sleep at all? Yoann didn’t know and he hated that he couldn’t stay in contact with his brother. Maybe if he did, Morap would learn to appreciate how good it was that their father was back with them. They should be a family again, but now that their father had returned, Morap had gone off to train with the Jedi. How could things ever be fixed, if they weren’t together?

            He looked up at the sky. The city lights made it impossible for him to see all the stars, but a few bright ones were visible nonetheless. Somewhere out there was Morap, probably training with the other Padawan, or finishing the work on his lightsaber. Yoann put the bucket on the ground and lay down on the bench, face turned upward. If he turned his head slightly to the right, he could still see the stars, pinpricks of light in the vast darkness.

He had never left Chandrila. Hanna City was where all his life had taken place and he had never been unhappy about it, but he felt like things couldn’t possibly remain the way they were. He was happy his father was back, but he also felt that something wasn’t quite right. Things had shifted, but in which direction, Yoann couldn’t quite grasp. Their quiet life had to change so Meelan could have a place in it. A place with which his father could be comfortable. And the day their life started to change couldn’t come soon enough. Meelan Bendar was restless and unhappy. His mother was doing her best to make him feel comfortable and Yoann assured his father every day how glad he was to have him. And he was.

But somehow they’d have to find a new way.

 


	6. Mentors

 

 

The air in the longhouse was stiflingly hot. The fire in the centre was burning brightly. The steam rising up from the pot hanging over it formed curly clouds slowly drifting upwards and as Ha’roon walked inside he spotted his father sitting on the high seat. Ha’roon wished he could tell him to lie down.  He also wished he could ask Ghunda to throw open the windows. But his father had been shivering these past few days and most of the other people living here had started to feel it too. The trembling and sweating had been hard to watch and Ha’roon was still wondering why he hadn’t caught it yet.

            Ha’roon put the bucket of water Ghunda had asked him to get on the table. Looking up, Ha’roon could see that the clear kyber crystals up on the ceiling had become dull in several places. Strange things were going on here, that was for sure.

            “Is the shipment ready?” his father asked, his voice barely audible and it took Ha’roon a moment before he was able to understand the words.

            To him it was still hard to grasp how this could have happened. He had seen diseases spread before, but never like this. Something felt off, even ominous about it. Especially the fact that neither him, nor Cadmund, his trainer, had fallen ill. Nowadays you could find at least three to four seriously ill people per longhouse, with more and more people feeling the first stages of it creeping up on them like a shadow in the dark. But so far Ha’roon felt perfectly fine.

            Ha’roon nodded. “We’re ready. The pickup is tomorrow.”

            It was at this precise moment that Nihls, the village chief, the wealthiest man near and far, collapsed and fell from his high seat. Ha’roon barely managed to catch the heavy body and when he stared down at his father’s face, heart pumping wildly in his chest, he saw the blood trickling out of the nose into the golden fur.

            Ha’roon allowed himself a single second of terror, in which he couldn’t do anything but look at the familiar face, before he ordered Ghunda to open the door to the bedroom.

            Nihls Olson was heavy, but that wasn’t the reason why carrying his father was agony. The smell emanating from the body of his father made it nearly impossible to breathe. Why hadn’t he smelled it before?

            Ghunda rushed into the bedroom in front of him, throwing open the windows to let in the friendly winds. Immediately they rushed inside, slamming the door shut behind Ha’roon and allowing the smell to dissipate somewhat.

            Gently, Ha’roon put his father down on the bed and pulled the furs over him.

            “Is that smell coming from him?” Ghunda sniffed the air  as she stepped closer and Ha’roon simply nodded. He was unable to find the words to send her out. Ghunda had been like a mother to him, after his own had died and even now, when he was a fully grown adult, he couldn’t bring himself to order her about.

            “It’s just like it was next door,” she grumbled, putting a paw on Nihls’s forehead.

            “Are you sure?” Ha’roon sat down on the edge of the bed. He himself hadn’t checked up on people in other houses, but Ghunda, who was familiar with herbs and how to put them to use to cure ailments, had been called upon more than once since this whole thing had started.

            Nihls shivered and started gasping helplessly for air. His mighty paws were shaking. Ghunda threw Ha’roon one single look and he jumped to his feet to move away from the bed. “Get out,” she hissed. “Send in one of the servants with the soup. I will not risk you catching it, too.”

            Ha’roon nodded. What use could soup be at this point? He felt numb, unable to move away from his father’s bed, despite the horror he felt looking at him.

            A soft beeping sound made him flinch. The transmitter he was carrying at his belt had gone off. They were here.

            “Go…” Ghunda added softly and when she looked up at him over his father’s thrashing body, her purple eyes were warm and almost comforting.

            Ha’roon nodded, then he turned and nearly stormed out of the room and the house, before he had to look at his father again. He shouted a quick order over his shoulder, relaying Ghunda’s demand for the soup, before closing the door.

            Cadmund was standing in the village square, eyes turned skywards.

            Taking a deep breath, Ha’roon approached his mentor and forbid himself to look over his shoulder back at the house where doom was already waiting for him. His father was dying. He had known it for a while now, but to actually see the mighty Nihls like this, the one who had carried him on his back until his fifth year, even though most Man’vas started walking on their own with three, seemed to have lost all strength and power over his mind.

            “Bad news?” Cadmund asked softly and Ha’roon nodded, clicking his tongue.

            “I’m sorry, boy.”

            Ha’roon growled in approval. His mentor’s words were meaningless, but heartfelt and that was the most important thing, he told himself. “They are getting here early,” he said. Going into detail on his father’s wellbeing or that of the rest of the settlement in fact, wouldn’t get them anywhere.

            The crates filled with crystals were standing nearby, the shipping documents were ready and it didn’t matter that the pick-up was happening now. The approaching shuttles looked as pristine as ever, glinting white in the setting sunlight. “It’s only good that no one is outside when they get here under normal circumstances,” Ha’roon added and Cadmund nodded with a soft growl. If those fragile looking humans had any idea of the plague holding this village in its iron fist, they wouldn’t take the crystals and the Man’vas wouldn’t get paid.

            Business relations between them and these newcomers had started several years ago, first tentatively, but the trade went well and very soon with the Free Federation had increased their living standards considerably. Before the Federation their drinking water had been far less clean than it was now, that the Federation had provided them with the means to clean it properly and the vehicles they had traded for the crystals made transport that much easier. The next shipment would be harder to procure. Ha’roon knew that much already. Too many people were incapacitated. He could only hope the Federation would give them the time they’d need to get everything ready.

 

Morap was grateful that he could breathe more freely again. A sense of calm had settled over him after the two-hour session of meditation, and he found it in him to laugh at Jo-pur’s jokes again. The Gungan from Naboo was about his age and they were paired up in their studies more often than not. He had been at the Academy longer than Morap had and consequentially had more experience, but he didn’t brag or make Morap feel bad about not being able to lift more than one object with the help of the Force yet. For a moment Morap had even considered asking Jo-pur for advice concerning the construction of his lightsaber, but Morap couldn’t shake the feeling that that could be considered cheating.

            Jo-pur swiped a piece of fruit from the bowl standing in the centre of the table and took up his knife. _I don’t like meditation_ , he signed, his hands flying through the air.

            “What do you like, then?” Morap asked grinning. The meat was excellent. Apparently the older students had been responsible for the cooking today.

            Jo-pur shrugged. He had started slicing the appelfruit into wedges, the juice leaking onto the plate. _Just saying,_ he signed, knife still in hand, _it’s frustrating._

            Morap raised an eyebrow, but nodded tentatively, unwilling to tell his friend about the relief and momentary distraction meditation provided him with. “I know. But it’s part of the whole Jedi experience, isn’t it?”

            Jo-pur’s nostrils flared. Something was bothering him, Morap just knew it. They had gotten along from the very beginning and learning the sign-language Jo-Pur used was easier to understand than Morap would’ve thought. Probably because he had learned to be more sensitive to his surroundings, he thought. “Did something happen?”

            Jo-pur shrugged again, picked up one of the pink wedges and dipped it into the gravy left on his plate, before signing again, the final gesture made Morap shudder. A finger to his temple, before it seemed to crawl away from his head. _Just had a weird dream._

            With a nod, Morap put down his knife and fork and leaned back. “Yes, I know. Me too.” A lot of people here had strange dreams. Skywalker said it was part of the journey of discovery and encouraged them to talk to each other or to the teachers about those dreams, claiming that it would help them deal. And so far Morap had shared his dreams, but recently a few of them made him blush when he remembered them in broad daylight and the last thing he wanted to do was discuss Embee with the people here.

            Jo-pur’s lips twitched into a smile. _We’ll be okay, though, right?_

            Morap had no idea what his friend was referring to, but he nodded nonetheless. “Somehow,” he answered as he saw Ben approaching, a tray in his hands. He headed for the area where most adults were sitting but when he spotted Morap, he approached their table instead.

            “Skywalker wants to talk to you after dinner,” he said in a low voice, his face earnest.

            “What did I do?” Morap felt the heat rising to his cheeks. Maybe it wasn’t anything he’d done… maybe it was something else… something worse… what if something had happened to his family? What if his father-

            “It’s alright.” Ben forced a smile. “You’re okay. Just go to him when you’re done here.”

            _He’s so weird,_ Jo-Pur signed when Ben had walked off to sit on his own at the end of the table where Rey and Nej were sitting. Nej flashed a look at the newcomer, then picked up his tray and headed for the exit. Not an unusual sight and Ben didn’t look up or say anything, but Morap felt his gut twist at the sight. Rey remained seated and the scene from his dream flashed before his eyes. Ben kneeling at Rey’s feet, her green blade reflected in his dark eyes which were focused not on her but on the older woman. Morap had no idea what to make of this dream, but he knew one thing for sure: “You don’t know him,” he whispered, turning back to Jo-pur.

            _And you do?_ Jo-pur asked with a scowl.

            Morap bit on his lip, then he picked up his bread and dunked it into his gravy, unable to answer. No, he couldn’t say that he knew Ben Solo, but what he did know was that he could relate… at least to a certain extent. Ben had done wrong and people were unwilling to talk to him because of it, just the way Morap was treating his father. He was fully aware of what he was doing and why, but looking at Ben being treated this way, not matter how justified that treatment was, made Morap feel guilty. “Hard to explain,” he muttered around a mouthful of gravy-soaked bread. He sighed, then arranged his tray, cutlery to the side, plate in the centre, and got up. “I should go,” he said. “See you around.”

            Jo-pur waved shortly. He wasn’t angry with Morap. They’d had this conversation before and Jo-pur knew that Morap’s father had been in the First Order at least.

            Nodding, Morap turned away from his friend, dumped the dish and started heading out of the dining hall. He saw Hux drawing near with long strides, jaw set and eyes focused on the door Morap had just passed.

            “Is Ben in there?” he asked brusquely and Morap nodded. Hux used the same tone of voice Morap had heard his father fall into with his men back on the base. It made him nauseous and he had to take a step away from Hux.

            “Just sat down,” he said in a low voice and without further acknowledgement, Hux strode past him into the dining hall.

            With a shudder, Morap turned his back on him and made his way towards Skywalker’s quarters. As he approached the door, he saw Nej Antilles sitting in a window nook, looking over the vast expanse of forest stretching out in front of them.

            Morap stopped in his tracks when the light blue eyes met his and his heart started pounding. He had a bad feeling about this.

            “Morap.” It was a statement more than a greeting, but Morap nodded nonetheless. He had never managed to warm up to this man, who had come to take him back here, but especially his interactions with Ben made Morap want to stay away from him. If Nej hated Ben this much, then he couldn’t be particularly fond of Morap either. After all, his father had been in the First Order, too.

            “Luke wanted to see me,” Morap said quietly, taking a tentative step towards the door, which slipped open immediately.

            Nej’s eyes never left his and Morap turned around in relief, to see Skywalker leaning in the doorway.

            “You’re both here,” he said softly. “Come on in.” He waved them inside with his mechanical hand and all of a sudden Morap’s mouth was parched. He only wanted to get away from here. Why had Nej been summoned to Skywalker as well?

            Luke sat down on one of the four cushions lying on the ground in front of the big window. His eyes, unlike Nej’s, were warm, far more welcoming and they made Morap relax somewhat.

            “Morap.” Skywalker’s voice was firm, but not unfriendly.  He gestured for Morap and Nej to take a seat and Morap followed the invitation without hesitating.  Nej sitting down next to him was a little disconcerting, but there was nothing to be feared, Morap was sure of it.

            “Luke…” Morap cleared his throat.

            “How are things going?”

            Morap felt his cheeks go hot and he folded his hands, so he wouldn’t start fidgeting. He shrugged. Nej’s presence made things a little awkward, but it was no secret that he was struggling. “It’s hard,” he said quietly, unable to meet Skywalker’s gaze. He was failing. He had started to slip, the same day he had started work on his lightsaber. It was embarrassing.

            Skywalker leaned forward and Morap forced himself to look up. “I know it’s hard,” he smiled vaguely. Of course he did. Skywalker’s struggle, first with the Empire and then in rebuilding the Jedi Order time and time again, was common knowledge. But Skywalker didn’t show his face too much, if he could avoid it. That Morap had been summoned here must be a bad sign, but somehow Skywalker didn’t appear to be angry or frustrated with him.

            “How was the time with your family?”

            Morap saw Nej stiffen from the corner of his eye, but Morap ignored him as best he could. He didn’t have the energy to try and deal with the other Jedi as well. “Frustrating,” Morap said. “Ben said that…”

            At this, Nej scoffed, and only Skywalker flashing him a warning glance, made him stop.

            “What did he say?”

            Morap shrugged. The topic was a sensitive one and he didn’t want to talk about his father in front of Nej Antilles. “He tried to give me some advice but…”

            Skywalker smiled grimly. “He’s not an expert on family advice.”

            Morap nodded and shrugged again. What was he to say in answer to that anyway?

            “When you came here,” Skywalker began, “You had nightmares… visions… have they stopped?”

            Morap sensed that Skywalker already sensed the answer, so he shook his head. “Not really. But they have become clearer,” he said, before adding quickly, “I think.”

            “And you’re still having problems with your lightsaber, right?”

            “Yes…” That too was no secret, but having to admit it took a lot of effort. “The final step anyway.”

            “It’s no rush, really,” Skywalker said, looking at Nej. “It took Nej a while to finish his as well.” The smile on his lips was genuine and for the first time since entering the room, Morap looked at Nej properly. The other man was sitting upright on the cushion, back straight and legs folded. The blue eyes reminded Morap of those belonging to a bird of prey he had seen at an animal show a few year previously. Nej was smiling slightly as well.

            “Just a few months,” he admitted, still smiling.

            “That’s why I thought it might be a good idea to pair you up. At least for a while. Nej has had trouble with dreams as well, you, Morap, know how that feels. And Nej can help you with your lightsaber.”

            Morap swallowed. _That’s not a good idea_ , was what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Pairing him up with someone who so openly hated the First Order couldn’t be good. But that was exactly, what Skywalker had in mind. Morap saw it in his eyes… it wasn’t unusual for one of the older Jedi to take on a younger student for a while. The old Jedi – Padawan teaching structures had been abolished, since there weren’t nearly enough older Jedi to take care of the younger students anyway, but it still happened sometimes.

            He turned his head to look at Nej again, but the other’s expression had gone blank.

            Neither of them was particularly happy about this arrangement.

            What a great basis for the team they were being forced to make…

 


	7. Askija

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> Sorry this took so long ;) I've been writing my thesis, but I'm mostly done! Yeay!  
> Enjoy this chapter!

 

 

After tossing and turning for about an hour, Poe pushed back the covers and got to his feet. The ship was in hyperspace. There was nothing he could do but wait, but that didn’t mean he had to lie still either.

            Finn’s hand clasped around his wrist, making him turn. “Where are you going?”

            Poe shrugged. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, drawing nearer again and weaving his fingers through Finn’s. “I’m sorry.”

            Finn reached for the light switch over the narrow bed. “Are you okay?”

Blinking, Poe sat down again and pulled Finn’s hand into his lap. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” Poe said evasively and kissed Finn’s knuckles.

“Mia is awake, too. Just so you know.”

Poe nodded. He couldn’t blame her. “What the hell are we doing, Finn?” he sighed. This didn’t feel right. Like he was pushing his daughter away from him in punishment for something he couldn’t even be angry about. Mia was just a child! She had made a mistake, yes, a terrible mistake even, but against all odds, nothing had happened.

“She hates me…” He bit his lip. Admitting this fear, even to Finn, was outrageous.

“That’s not true!” Finn’s protest felt good somehow. It was, however, far from helpful.

“I know….” Poe sighed again. “But…”

“She’s terrified.”

“So are you.”

“So are you.” Finn smiled slightly and sat up, brows furrowed. The impressions the fabric of the pillow had left on his skin were clearly visible.

Poe lifted his hand and stroked his cheek with the tip of a finger. “I don’t want to leave her there,” said Poe and leaned back against the wall. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Rey, or Luke, or Finn, but he hated the idea of being separated from her months on end. The thought which had occurred to him more than once over the last couple of weeks made him tremble even now. What would he do with himself when he didn’t have Mia around anymore? Taking care of Ace surely wasn’t enough to occupy him for days on end…

He bit his lip, but he was sure that Finn had sensed his distress. Finn looked at him with a soft smile and shook his head. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure. Maybe we’ll be able to come and get her in a few weeks. Maybe once she’s realized what kind of responsibility she has, she’ll want to come home?”

Poe shrugged. He didn’t really believe that. The only reason Finn hadn’t been drawn into this whole Force debacle was because he had already set himself another goal, even before Luke had offered to teach him the first time. Finn had wanted to be nothing else but a medic and only the events before Mia’s birth had made him see that having some knowledge of the Force might indeed be helpful. Poe stretched out his hand again and pulled Finn closer. Before he could say anything, Finn had pressed his lips to Poe’s and a soft, lulling, humming noise was already filling Poe’s mind. The soft tingling sensation at the base of his neck had only very little to do with the effect Finn’s kiss had on him. It was Finn himself who was making him feel this. Finn’s skin on his and Finn’s mind, his very essence trying to calm Poe down and share his own emotions. There was a sense of dread, happiness about being alone with Poe, fear for Mia… Poe broke away from the kiss, then wrapped his arms around Finn. “Thank you,” he said calmly. Knowing that Finn was feeling the same way he did made this whole ordeal a little easier to bear.

 

Darkness enveloped him, but there was no sense of danger lurking in the darker shadows around the edges of his consciousness. here was something else, too. A strange, familiar warmth he couldn’t quite place. He had blended everything out, the soft patting of rain on the leaves, the smell of dampness rising from the lush grass beneath him, and the cold, still emanating from the rock he was sitting on.

            Morap couldn’t have said how long he had been sitting here, but it had been a while. Through his eyelashes, he could see that the light in the meadow had grown fainter. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The soft rain had started again and he knew that, if he didn’t want to catch a cold, he should start heading back to the school. But the soft warmth was something he couldn’t ignore. It was still there, at the back of his mind, tickling him, tugging at him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t dangerous, that much he knew. Not any more dangerous than the rest of the galaxy anyway.

            Smiling faintly to himself, he stretched his legs and as he felt the blood starting to circulate properly again, he shuddered. His clothes were damp and the fabric stuck uncomfortably to his skin, but he shook the feeling. Nej had sent him to meditate in the forest, where he couldn’t be distracted by anyone else. Not that anyone at the school would even try distracting someone trying to concentrate, but apparently Nej was of the opinion that Morap needed to be even farther away from it all, possibly even him.

            It had only been a few days since Luke had instructed Nej and Morap to work more closely together, but Morap already felt like Nej couldn’t really bring himself to talk to Morap. Not that he was unfriendly, far from it, but Nej seemed distracted, distant even. Consequentially Morap had been more than happy to comply when Nej had told him to meditate in the forest. And he probably wasn’t expecting him back anytime soon.

            So, instead of heading back towards the school and the warmth inside the buildings, Morap turned away from it and started heading into the forest. Pushing past the bushes and feeling the wet leaves stroke his cheeks felt oddly familiar too, and he wasn’t surprised to remember the time he had walked away from a secure homestead on this planet before. He had been angry then. Angry and afraid. Angry at the other children in his father’s organization for mocking him, and afraid someone would find out he had stolen the crystal from his mother. He remembered being followed by Embee that day, remembered how relieved he had been that she had found him, when the crystal had started feeling funny against his skin. She hadn’t run off, when it had started to glow either. The memory made a strange ache spread through his chest. Her eyes had started sparkling, and back then they had made a promise, which made his ears grow today. How childish they had been…

            He followed the strange aura luring him further and further into the forest. The sense that he had done something similar before, started creeping up on him, but that didn’t make him stop. When he broke through the underbrush and stepped onto the clearing, he shivered. There was nothing to be seen here, but the feeling of being pulled somewhere hadn’t vanished. He turned his head slightly, straining his ears and his senses to pick up something more. He had clasped his hand around the crystal now. He wasn’t armed. If, whatever had lured him here, wanted to attack him, there would be little he could do to defend himself, but he was sure that wouldn’t be necessary. Just like he had been that day… and then he knew it. He knew what he was looking for, before the creature pushed its majestic head through the thicket to his right, and took a few steps towards him.

            Morap remembered his father losing his nerve at the sight of the first creature Morap had encountered, and shooting it without giving it much thought. That wouldn’t happen today.

It was green. Its green scales and feathers glistening with droplets of rain, and the soft shimmer of sunlight it had stored within the scales. Morap swallowed hard, as he thought of the moment his father had broken through the underbrush in a panic and had killed one of these wonderful animals and its offspring.

            “Hi…” Morap whispered, and sat down on the wet grass to signal to the Askija that he wasn’t a threat. He smiled softly and lifted both of his hands. “You brought me here, huh?”

            A hot stream of hot air hit his face, and he shuddered at the smell. Still, he remained where he was, completely sure that the Askija’s aura had done this. It had been responsible for him being here… or was it him, who had brought the Askija here?

            The animal tilted its head slightly to the right and blinked, stretching out one of his sharp-taloned claws. The brown eyes seemed to be scrutinizing him as they too drew closer.

            Morap’s lips were dry, as the Askija mimicked his peace offering and lay down in front of him, apparently curious. The sense of warmth he had felt when coming here spread through his limbs again. And then he realized what he had suspected before: the Askija were drawn to the Force-Sensitive. Just like the Force-Sensitive were drawn to them. So they had been the reason Skywalker and the others had decided to settle on this planet.

He nodded once, then he opened his palm and held it out to the Askija, the crystal still in hand.  The Askija shrunk away for a moment, teeth bared, but Morap didn’t move and that seemed to be all it took for the animal to relax again. He felt something brush softly against the back of his mind, and a wave of calm washed over him he hadn’t felt in years. Only now did he realize, how much it had cost him to be angry. Angry at his father. For what he had done. For what he believed in. Angry that he couldn’t bring himself to hate the man who had willingly killed people standing in his way.

            Morap blinked against the tears threatening to overwhelm him and shut his eyes. At least that day in the forest, when his father had shot the other Askija he had known why his father was doing horrible things. Meelan Bendar had killed to save his son. That had to count for something… he was a horrible man, but he was capable of more. He was stupid and selfish, but there was something else there as well.

            Morap sniffed and when he looked up again, he saw that the Askija was gone. The strange connection lingered for a moment longer and then it too had vanished, leaving him behind empty and exhausted. He wiped his sleeve over his eyes. It had stopped raining entirely now, but he was soaked to the skin. He couldn’t care less.

            The hair on his neck stood on end, when he heard the familiar sound of a ship approaching, and he looked up to see a small cruiser rush by over the treetops, heading towards the school. The cloud cover above was breaking apart slowly now, and when he got up, the movement was accompanied by a rush of determination.

 

It took him longer than he would have thought to get back to the school. He had already walked for about half an hour, before the noises of the evening routines reached his ears. His stomach was rumbling, and he realized only now that he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Picking up his pace, he steered towards one of the gaps between the trees, when he heard a twig snap to his right and he stopped dead in his tracks.

            “We talked about this already. I said no. I can’t leave here again.” Ben’s voice was tense and Morap felt his ears grow hot, the elation he had felt upon meeting the Askija evaporating.

            “I’m so sick of this…”

            Morap turned his head, unsure of whether to move or not. If he did, he might draw attention to himself, if he didn’t, Ben would surely spot him. Hux and Ben were several feet away from him, mostly hidden from view by something that could barely be called a shrubbery.

            “Then go.” Ben sounded cold and Morap shuddered. “I won’t stop you. See what you’ll get for crawling out of hiding after so many years.”

            Hux scoffed and Morap could feel Hux’s anger like a white-hot wave at being called a coward.

            “How did you get the information on them anyway?”

            “I _can_ slice, as you very well know! And I won’t take this from you. You’re not better than I am, hiding here among people who hate you.”

            Morap could see Ben turning away, but as the older man turned his head, he met Morap’s gaze and froze.

            Quickly, before Ben could call out to him, Morap started moving again, out of the forest and past the landing pad where the small cruiser had set down.

 

Poe did not like the look of this place. Yes, it was clean and warm and welcoming, but there was something missing. Something essential…

            He looked down at Mia, who was walking in front of him, Finn’s hand clasped around hers. She was too big for an adult to be holding her hand like this, and she hadn’t wanted him to hold her hand in a while, but as soon as he had lowered the ramp, she had reached out towards Finn. And that was only natural. She knew why they were here, and that Finn had the same abilities as she did, but that didn’t make it easier. Had she appeared stronger, more self-confident, Poe wouldn’t have felt so forlorn looking at her.

            Skywalker himself had greeted them when the ship had landed and he gave them a tour through the main building personally now. He was friendly towards Mia, and, as they entered a big, empty room with grey poofs strewn along the windows overlooking the forest, he made an inviting gesture towards one of the poofs.

            “Would it be alright if we talked alone for a while?” he asked Mia with a smile that made Poe’s insides churn. He was being stupid, he told himself. If anyone was one of the good guys, it was Skywalker… but then again, he let Hux and Ren live here, too. He remembered how terrified he had been at the revelation, and the fact that Finn had sworn him to secrecy. Finn! Finn of all people was protecting Hux and Ren… Poe still couldn’t quite believe it. But then again, he didn’t know the whole story yet. But he swore to himself that he would find out, before they made a final decision about Mia and this place.

            His heart sank, when Mia looked up at them and nodded. “See you around!” she said, happily, her dark eyes starting to shimmer with anticipation.

            Finn’s hand on his shoulder made him flinch, be he didn’t hesitate to follow his husband to the door.

            “We’ll be downstairs, Luke,” Finn said and Luke nodded.

            “This won’t take too long.”

            “What is he going to do with her?” Poe asked in a hushed voice and looking over his shoulder.

            “Just talk…” Finn shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. He let go of Finn and guided him towards the flight of stairs they had just come up.

            “Shouldn’t we wait out here?”

            “Poe…”

            “Yeah, alright…” With a shrug, he forced himself to look away from the door and follow Finn. As they passed a window, he could see a red-haired boy walk away from the forest, towards the main building. He looked furious. A moment later another person broke through the trees and followed him.

            “You’re sure this place is okay?” Poe asked for the umpteenth time.

            “Yes.”

            “Even with…”

            “Yes.”

            Poe swallowed hard. He knew, Finn had been present the day Ren had surrendered to the Resistance. Finn, Rey and General Organa had taken him in, and shortly afterwards things had started to work out for the Resistance again. Hux had vanished, only to resurface here of all places. Poe wasn’t convinced he really wanted to leave his daughter anywhere near them. “Finn…” he said calmly. “I’m not worried as much about Skywalker, or Rey, or Antilles, or the Force…” In fact, Poe was perfectly aware of the fact, that Mia needed some training. She knew what Finn could do and no matter what they told her, she would try to imitate him. And that might lead to disaster…

            Finn stopped in his tracks. They were halfway down the stairs, and he turned to look up at Poe. “Believe me, I know… and I don’t like them being here either, but we owe them… to some extent anyway.” He shrugged, as Poe caught up to him.

“What do you mean?” Poe whispered. He was making Finn feel uncomfortable. He was fully aware of that, but Finn couldn’t expect him not to ask questions.

“Well… I promised Organa… and it never really came up…”

Poe had known that both Hux and Ren were free since the day they had seen Ren accompany Rey and Nej the day Bendar had been arrested, but as long as Mia wasn’t in any danger of being near them, he hadn’t cared much about it. Now it was a huge problem for obvious reasons.

“Finn…”

Finn shrugged uncomfortably and brushed his hand over his neck, buying himself some time. “Well, the truth is that as far as I know Ren offered to surrender in the first place, because he thought we could help him get Hux back.”

“Get Hux back?”

Finn nodded, then sat down on the stairs, apparently unwilling to go any further. “I don’t know all the details, but Snoke and Ren had a falling out and Hux was Snoke’s scapegoat.”

“I feel so sorry for him,” Poe sneered, unable to feel pity for either Ren or Hux. Still, he sat down next to Finn, who merely nodded and stared at his hands for a while.

“We did it anyway… because neither Luke, nor Organa would allow us to kill him… and when we found Hux in some old Imperial dump on Jakku… I have no idea what Organa told him… but he started cooperating and we started winning the war.”

Poe leaned back, elbows resting on one of the stairs above him. He had no idea what to make of this revelation. He still felt nothing but disgust at the thought of both Ren and Hux going free, especially Ren, but he knew of course that Ren was Organa’s son and he couldn’t exactly blame her for wanting to keep her son safe… and it wasn’t like Hux or Ren were making any attempts at trying to rebuild the First Order from here…

He swallowed hard and reached towards Finn’s hand. “How do you feel about this?”

Finn shrugged. “I can’t help it that they’re here, but Rey and Nej and all the others can keep them in check. It’s not like Hux could leave this place and Luke won’t let Ren leave here with him anyway…”

That wasn’t much of a comfort, Poe thought, but at least he knew that there was nothing to rebuild. The Order was gone. So was the Empire. The last remnants had been obliterated with Bendar’s organization and if Hux hadn’t attempted to make contact with his former fellow officer, then that was bound to be a good sign. Maybe Hux had resigned himself to being the Jedis’ prisoner. Maybe… Maybe Ren had decided to change sides yet again… who could tell.

“Mia will be fine here, if she wants to stay,” Finn said, squeezing Poe’s hand tightly. “She will stay away from them anyway. She knows which people to trust. Always has.”

Poe nodded gloomily and when the door on the upper landing slid open to reveal a grinning Mia, tears glistening in her eyes, he felt his heart sink.


	8. Tensions

 

 

The apartment seemed empty. Even with Meelan there, sitting at a desk, going over the files on his datapad. He was barely moving when she closed the door behind herself. He didn’t even look up.

            She bit her lip, trying very hard to ignore the painful stab in her gut, as she caught herself thinking that the apartment would feel a lot less like a chasm of silence if he wasn’t there. With Yoann and Morap both gone to that infernal Jedi school, she and Meelan were the only people left to fill it. Breaking the silence was hard, tedious work and she had to admit that she had never felt so alone.

            Four years had passed since Morap had left. Only a year later, his little brother had joined him. Ever since, the quiet in the tiny apartment had grown and Nataleeh knew, she just knew, that Meelan hated the fact that his sons and his wife felt so comfortable in the New Republic. They had talked about it more than once and though he had never mentioned it, she couldn’t shake the feeling that to him, she was betraying the First Order. And she would feel like she was, she just knew it. The only problem with that was, that the Order was dead, had been dead for so many years now... their attempt at keeping living that life had failed and though she hated to admit it, there was simply no way for them to go back to that time.

            She put her coat over the chair and slowly made her way towards the desk, where her husband was hunched over a datapad. He hated this job. She knew he did, but it was something for him to do and it did help to pay the rent. A task that made him feel like he was doing _something_ instead of nothing. And she was grateful that he had stopped staring out the window or at the holo. And sometimes, when he was in a good mood, the initial silence after her return after a long day at work, could be lifted.

            “Are you alright?” she asked in a low voice, letting her hand slide down his back. He wasn’t happy, and she hated seeing him like this, but what could she possibly to do make things better?

            The thought of the increasing amount of messages from Armitage creeped up on her, and she shoved it away. Now was not the time.

            Meelan shrugged and leaned back. “Yes.” He barely went out, and she couldn’t exactly blame him. He was terrified of someone approaching him in the street, someone trying to make him responsible for what the Order had done during the war. It was ridiculous. She just knew it, and he knew it, too, but that didn’t change the fact that the fear was there.

            She glanced at the datapad he had been looking at. A report on trade routes…

            The job had been offered to him by a senator a few years ago. He was to look at reports and try to find out if anything in them hinted at unusual activity. He was the expert, after all. For a while she had wondered why he had taken on this job that so obviously stood against everything he had believed in for such a long time. She had even been angry at him at the silent accusations of treason, but then she had realized who that senator must be to contact Meelan of all people. He was the contact who had managed to get him out of prison ahead of time. The one who had in fact been responsible for the relatively mild sentence.

            She felt his hand trail up her side and closed her eyes. “I hate to see you cooped up in here…” she finally said, brushing her hand through his hair, which was shorter than when they had first met.

            He shrugged. “Not a lot for me to do here,” he muttered, pulling Nataleeh on his lap. Something was different. She could see it in his eyes. Underneath the weariness there was a trace of hope, but also insecurity. Luckily no trace of the fever. Every day now, ever since the first outbreak of the plague, she had been worried that either Meelan would fall ill, or she’d get a message from Askija that her sons were sick.

            She pushed her hand through his hair again. He had gone mostly grey now, and she had to admit that she had been pleased to see his hair turn from reddish brown to this. During the war she had often thought she’d never see him again.

            “We should go out,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his forehead. Maybe she’d get him to tell him what he had found out. “Get you out of this apartment for once.”

            His soft smile made her shiver. It made his eyes gleam in a way that made her feel like she was losing her footing and at this precise moment she wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not. “Sounds good.”

            She hadn’t seen him like this in a long time, and though she had to admit that she liked seeing him with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, she had to admit that this smile didn’t make her feel confident the way it had back in the day. “What happened?” she asked.

            Meelan shrugged. “It seems like a smuggler ring is emerging more and more openly,” he said quietly. What was he trying to tell her with that? Why was it making him happy? He couldn’t possibly think of engaging with that line of business again.

            She furrowed her brow and shrugged. “So?”

            His grip on he tightened and he pulled her closer. “Don’t you see?” he whispered, “This means that the focus of the Republic won’t be on us anymore?”

            “ _Us_?” she couldn’t help but say. If anything, he was still being watched, and she because of _him._ The messages Armitage sent her must be closely watched, of course, she wasn’t so naïve as to think no one would be watching her, but the primary investigation was on him. Of course he was being shielded by his contact, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in any danger anymore. “Meelan…”

            “I need us to-“

            She put her fingertip on his lips, cutting him off, while simultaneously fighting down the lump in her throat. She shook her head. “Don’t say it,” she whispered.

            His arms around her torso grew slack and she stood up, knowing full well that the silence between them would soon return. She heard him sigh, as she went over to the kitchen and started the water boiler. She’d just make some tea and go to bed.

            “Why?” he asked her. For the millionth time, it seemed to her. “Why do you want to stay here so desperately?”

            She swallowed hard, finally finding it in her to say what she felt. “Because it’s safe,” she said, her voice unwavering, and she turned back to him. “It is safe, and I can final _work._ I am free to paint, to talk to people about art, without being terrified of what might come next.”

            He got up from his chair, slowly walking towards her. Outside the sun was setting, illuminating his skin with a faint, reddish glow. “Is that all?”

            The boys were another argument. One she had used so often these past few years, but today, she couldn’t bring herself to put it forward. Yoann and Morap were safe for now. The Jedi wouldn’t send them away, because of what their parents did, but they’d be unable to see them ever again if they deserted. The truth was, that she was comfortable in her new life, and she hated herself for it. She should stick to the principles she had been raised to embrace. She should encourage her husband to do everything he could to help the last remnants of the First Order. The small bits and pieces that had started gathering in the Unknown Regions over the last couple of years. But they could barely be called a colony, she knew. They were people who had fled the Republic, just like so many had all those years ago to join Meelan. Armitage had told her about them. His choice of words had been tentative, careful, and she was sure that she’d be the only one to understand what they meant. She had known him so well, once. Before he had been promoted to general. But now… what was he now?

            Meelan stretched out his hands towards her. “Nat…” his voice was soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry.”

            She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Don’t ask me to leave this place…” she whispered, feeling guilty as soon as she said it. Her father would be ashamed of her, and so would her mother. Her former self would never have said these things, but the security of the past eleven years had made her less determined to follow the Order. This New Republic, this chaotic place, had become her home, and she liked feeling safe here. She liked knowing that her children were safe and learning to defend themselves, to become the best they could be. But how was Meelan to understand that? He, who had spent so much time fighting, couldn’t just make his peace with the Republic.

            He blinked, then bowed his head. She pulled him close, until his forehead rested on her shoulder, his lips pressed against her neck.

            “I’m so lost,” he whispered, and she nodded, hating herself for asking this of him. He wasn’t the confident leader anymore she had seen him become during those years on Askija. He was so much more vulnerable, but all this time hadn’t managed to quench his thirst for more.

            She reached up, to brush a hand over his head, unable to say anything else.

 

Without another word, he had grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. She could almost sense how claustrophobic this place made him feel. Their home had become his next prison and he had made it that himself.

            He walked upright, his hand clasped firmly around his as they passed shops, restaurants and cafes. It was as if he was trying to prove to himself that he had as much right to be here as anyone else, even if he felt uncomfortable among these strangers. Hanna City wasn’t as loud and chaotic as many other cities in the New Republic, but it must be hard for Meelan to walk through the crowd like this after being cooped up in their apartment for such a long time.

            Nataleeh squeezed his hand. During the first years of their marriage they had only been able to go out a few times, and then the Order had lost the war. The years of hiding had followed and only after Meelan’s release from prison were they able to stroll along the street, holding hands and pretend like everything was alright.

            “Do you think they will be back anytime soon?” Meelan asked without looking at her

            “I don’t know,” she admitted. Morap still wasn’t entirely comfortable around Meelan, but he hadn’t kept up the distance towards his father the second visit. That was something, Nataleeh thought. She regretted not knowing what her boys were doing and she knew full well, that her little boy had grown up by now. Morap was twenty years old, and from what she gathered from his last transmission, he was about to face his trials. After those, he would come home for a few days. “Soon, I hope,” she said, pulling him towards one of the restaurants.

            “I still can’t believe-“ Meelan broke off, his jaw muscles tight all of a sudden.

            She heard a chair scraping over floor tiles and followed his gaze. Her mouth went dry when she saw the two men, one of them standing up, fists clenched. She had seen thm only two times before: once when she and Morap had been led away from their base on Askija, and then again back in the courtroom. She shook her head and looked up at Meelan.

            “Let’s go.” The last thing she could use after this long, tedious day, was to witness a confrontation between Meelan and Poe and Finn Dameron.

            “No,” he said, and she could sense that he was determined. Determined to prove to someone, anyone, that he wasn’t powerless after all. He let go of Nataleeh’s hand and approached the table with squared shoulders, while Nataleeh chose to remain in the background.

            Why?

            Why of all places did these two people have to be here as well? Why couldn’t they have chosen a different restaurant in a city this big?!

            She bit her lip and took a deep breath as she watched Poe Dameron throw his napkin on the table. He, too, looked older. His hair had taken the distinct shade of salt and pepper by now. The man at his side, Finn, stood up as well, though he didn’t seem to be nearly as furious as Poe.

            Nataleeh shook her head, trying to ignore the painflut knot in the pit of her stomach.

            “Couldn’t you have picked another place?” she heard Poe say and closed his eyes.

            “Poe…” Finn got up as well and looked at her for a brief second. “Let’s not start a fight here.” The tension was clearly palpable in his voice, but he raised a hand. “Please.”

            Meelan scoffed, then clasped his hands firmly behind his back, eyeing Poe with a raised brow. His seeming calm was paper thin. Nataleeh could see the twitching muscle in his cheek. Not a good sign.

            “I hear Yoann and your daughter have become quite close,” she found herself blurting out, and all eyes turned on her. Meelan looked incredulous, his expression almost mirroring Poe’s. He didn’t know that. Of course he didn’t. It had been in one of the messages Armitage had sent her. She bit her lip and found, to her surprise, that Finn was smiling slightly.

            “Last week they were inseparable.”

            Poe’s head snapped around. “What?!” The shock he must feel reverberated in his voice and before she knew it, Meelan’s hand was on her arm.

            “Their…” he began, but she shut him up with a single look. She couldn’t deal with this right now.

            Finn shrugged. “It’s not his fault what his father is, is it?” His gaze turned icy as he looked at Meelan and Nataleeh found herself wanting to take a step back. Instead, she took one towards Finn.

            “What do you know…” she muttered, putting a hand on Meelan’s shoulder. She could practically feel every pair of eyes in the restaurant gazing at them. It was time to go. She looked the man staring at her up and down, unable to find it in her to hate him, or his partner. Yes, she had spent too much time in the Republic, too much time among her enemies. But her children had found a place here and who was she to tell them otherwise, when she herself had chosen the man she wanted without considering her parents’ wishes.

            “Have a nice evening,” she added, before turning away, rage burning deep within her. She didn’t need to push Meelan away from them, though she could see him look over his shoulder at the two men. He was itching to say something else, she just knew it, but one look from her, made him press his lips together and walk calmly out of the restaurant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The action will start soon, I promise ;) Thanks for reading and please feel free to tell me what you think!


	9. Creeping Shadows

 

 

The soft clinking of metal to his left didn’t disturb him. It never did. He didn’t even watch her hands move and manipulate the electronics of the drone in her lap anymore. He was used to Mia’s proficiency with tools by now. Maybe she was able to do this work with seeming effortlessness, because one of her fathers was a medic and consequentially she too had a talent for repairing miniscule thing that needed fixing. Yoann didn’t care either way.

            He and Mia were sitting on the rooftop of the Jedi school’s main building. Originally they had come here to meditate, but as soon as Mia had reached for her toolkit and the motherboard of the drone she had been working on, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. So instead of meditating, he was gazing out at the forest, at the steamy mist rising up from the treetops after a short, but heavy downpour of rain on an incredibly hot day. When the rain had started, he had, for a brief moment, hoped it would cool everything down, but all the rain had managed to achieve, was thicken the air with a humidity that made it even harder to breathe.

            He couldn’t see very far because of the mist, but he knew that on clear days, one could spot the remnants of the old compound hugging the mountains far away. His family had lived there once. Several years ago, Morap had taken him there and it had been the strangest experience. The Republic had bombarded the place to bits after everyone had been taken away from there, but the ruins still held remnants of the atmosphere, which this place had been ruled by. Yoann hadn’t liked it, and apparently even Morap had felt uncomfortable in his old home.

            At least, until he had spotted the Askija flying over the top of their heads, its wings spread wide, gliding through the air and drowning out everything around them with a sudden, mighty cry that made Yoann’s knees tremble. Morap had merely laughed, thrown his head back and closed his eyes.  Yoann had only been on this planet for a week, and he’d had difficulties merging the brother he had known all his life with this padawan. Morap wasn’t particularly happy at home, but he appeared to be free here, light somehow, in a way Yoann would never have thought possible. But everything seemed to change once Morap’s master stepped into the room. Morap became more serious, more focused, his gaze more intense. He had made progress, since Nej had taken him on, he’d told Morap. That he and Nej had a difficult relationship probably played a big part in this whole scenario, and Yoann couldn’t help but notice that Ben watched Nej with distaste whenever he spotted them together.

But Morap didn’t care. He said he was fine with the arrangement.

But only in that place, in that former base, had he really been calm, and then, Yoann had been able to see the Jedi Morap could become one day. One of those people he had learned about. The Jedi of old hadn’t been perfect, far from it, their system had been too rigid, too restraining, but Yoann had gotten the sense that being a Jedi wasn’t a bad thing at all. Or it didn’t have to be. And Morap, as he was standing there, looking up at the sky, emanating an aura of strength and sensitivity at the same time, made Yoann realize that he had made the right choice in coming here.

            That day, with the Askija circling above them like a guard of honour, Morap had finished building his lightsaber.

            Yoann would never forget that day. Watching his brother overcome this obstacle, which hadn’t been an obstacle for any of the other Padawan, had made goose bumps spread over his skin, making him shiver.

            They had remained at that place until the next morning, until the shadows of hate, fear and torture had been driven from Morap’s mind, and Morap had told him how he had felt about their father back then. Before Yoann was born. How he had admired Meelan Bendar and how this image had crumbled over the years of his imprisonment. An image he’d had to rebuilt in a way he could reconcile with.

            It had sounded strange to Yoann. It still did. Their father had never done them any harm. Not consciously anyway. He had paid his debts to the Republic and he was still doing so by working for their government. But Morap had other issues with their father, of course. Morap had lived through the whole ordeal. Yoann only knew the absent father, the loving mother and the glorious older brother. Those three people were his family, his idols and he had never, not once, doubted their devotion to him, or his to them.

            Yoann blinked, as the sun broke through the thick cloud cover still hanging over them. There, breaking through the underbrush, came Morap and Nej. Nej looked grim, but Morap didn’t seem to notice. The grimace of seriousness seemed to be etched on Nej’s face these days, and Yoann couldn’t help but wonder if Luke had talked to him about this at all, and how Rey, charming, happy, laughing Rey, could stand being with a man this grim-looking person striding towards the main building with is apprentice.

            Morap looked over his shoulder, said something Yoann couldn’t understand from where he was sitting, then he ran towards a group of young Jedi and a few Padawan training with wooden staffs. Jo-pur, Morap’s oldest friend here, threw Morap a staff, which Morap caught effortlessly without pausing. He jumped, turning around his own axis and brought down the staff on Jo-pur’s who had raised his own in defence. The fight that ensued was remarkable. The two of them were incredibly well-paired and watching them, made Yoann’s chest swell with pride. This was his brother striking blow after blow, moving as fast as lightning and with an agility that made Yoann gasp.

Morap and Jo-pur were showing off. Yoann knew that very well, but he didn’t care much. After all, that’s what they were supposed to do: inspire the Padawan around them to do better. To become faster. To reach their limits.

“Nej didn’t even watch.”

“Huh?” Yoann looked up at Mia, who had ceased working on the droid, but stared down at the two fighters.

“Nej just walked off. As if he doesn’t care.”

“Of course he doesn’t care,” Yoann said. “He never has.”

“Well, he should. He’s recruiting new students all the time, but he doesn’t care about them once they get here.”

Yoann shrugged, just as Morap landed flat on his back, Jo-pur’s staff weapon pointed directly at his throat. “I don’t see why this should bother us. I mean, I’m sure Luke would interfere if he suspected something was wrong.”

With a tentative nod, Mia put the motherboard away and leaned back. “Yeah, probably… But something _is_ wrong.”

He knew what she was talking about, of course. That plague which had started to spread through the galaxy, very slowly at first but picking up speed with every standard day, was the one thing everyone kept talking about. No one could tell how it spread or who was at risk, since it seemed to attack at random, to jump up in places no infected person had been to before. “What makes you say that now?”

“Just… I don’t know.” She bit her lip, her head laid back and looking up at the stars. “Papa told me Dad is working most of the time now. Barely ever gets home. He’s terrified. I know he is.”

Yoann felt a tight knot form in his stomach. He looked down at his hands. Mia missed her fathers, just like Yoann missed his parents, but Mia at least got to see hers on a more regular basis. Finn Dameron was sensitive to the Force, and he came here at least once a month, and he rarely ever came here without bringing his husband, too. Morap steered clear of them whenever they showed up, and Yoann followed suit. He was intimidated by these two famous war heroes to say the least. Yoann knew very well that his father had held these two men prisoner once, but he’d be damned if he allowed that to put a damper on his friendship with Mia.

“Does he know anything about this whole thing?”

She shrugged. “Not really…”

It had, as far as they knew, all started on a cargo ship coming into the New Republic illegally from the Unknown Regions. The freighter had appeared in Naboo’s orbit, the entire crew dead, but no trace of poison, virus or anything like it had been found on the ship. So the cargo had been confiscated, the ship destroyed, and two weeks later another ship, this time a regular freighter, had shown up under similar circumstances on Tatooine. This sickness was like nothing the galaxy had ever seen. People of all species were dying like flies in the most horrible ways imaginable, some of them alone, abandoned by loved ones, others with their entire families going alongside with them.

“He messages me at least once a day to make sure everything’s still okay here.”

Yoann nodded. “So does my mom.” And he replied every time, knowing full well how terrified she must be at the thought of this thing breaking out on Askija. Everyone seemed to be terrified these days. He looked down again, at the young Jedi and Padawan moving back towards the school’s main entrance. Not everyone who had completed their trials was still here. A few of them had been dispatched to help the New Republic one way or the other, the way the old Jedi had done, but they were much more independent from the senate’s control than the old ones had been.

Morap fell behind and stopped, when a dark-clad figure approached him. Yoann had never quite understood how Morap could get along this well with the quiet and distant Ben Solo, especially since he didn’t get along too well with the brooding Nej Antilles. Ben put a hand on Morap’s shoulder, then moved away towards the building where he and Hux lived together. “Everyone here is so miserable all the time,” Yoann muttered.

“And not only since this thing with the sickness started.” Mia sat up again and crossed her legs. “But not everyone… I mean, it’s basically just Nej, Ben, and Hux.”

“Hux should be glad he’s here and not in some stinking prison cell.” He missed his father and mother, but he was glad they didn’t know about Hux. It would drive his father up the wall, knowing that his former superior in the Order got away.

“Wish I know what happened… from the records you can’t really tell anything. He just vanished at some point.”

“He must have changed sides.” Yoann shrugged. Maybe Hux had been cleverer than his father. But then again, a general had a lot more to trade with, than a mere communications officer. His father never really talked about the war, or his role in it.

Mia made a non-committal sound. “I think we’ll never know. We’re not supposed to know anyway. But him being General Organa’s son’s uhm… accomplice must have played a big part in it. My dad steers clear of him and Ben, though.”

Yoann nodded. Mia’s father Finn had been a Stormtrooper. Another reason why their friendship should be harder than it was.

“So!” The sense of purpose with which she said it made Yoann flinch. “Papa asked me to come home for a week or two,” she announced, and added quickly, as though not to lose her nerve, “you wanna come with me?”

“What?” Yoann blinked, unable to comprehend what Mia was telling him there. “Mia, your parents hate me.”

She waved him off. “No, they don’t. They hate _your_ parents.”

Yoann scoffed. “You know, that makes everything so much easier.”

“Well, what I mean to say is, that I’d like you to come along. Or at least come along to Chandrila. Morap could come, too!” He could sense her rowing back, withdrawing her proposal somewhat, but not completely. “Just saying, it might be fun!”

Yoann sighed. “Yeah, maybe… I mean it’d be nice to have someone to visit? Or even stay with for a couple of days?” He didn’t even want to think about the discussions he was bound to have with his father, but the mere thought of having a friend close-by was alluring. “I’ll ask Rey if I can go.”

Mia’s smile was as bright as the sun. “And I think our parents are just gonna have to learn to pull themselves together.”

 _Easy for you to say,_ Yoann thought grimly, _one of yours is more or less a Jedi…_ But yes, he’d ask Morap if he could come as well, though he doubted it. After all, he was about to go through his trials and become a Jedi. He surely didn’t have the time and wasn’t in the right mindset to be going home… he himself hadn’t been to Chandrila in half a year, he realized. It was high time he arranged for a way to get there again.

Seeing Bendar again, after such a long time, and completely unexpectedly, had disturbed him more than he would have thought possible. Yes, they had finished their dinner, yes, they had pretended like everything was fine, and Finn’s soothing calm had done its part, but falling asleep after this encounter was next to impossible.

            Poe was pacing the living room, dreading to fall asleep and dream. The nightmares had stopped ages ago, but he was terrified they’d return tonight. He wiped his head across his brow and took a gulp of water. Beebee-Ate stirred in the corner.

            “I’m okay, buddy,” he said quietly. And he was! He would be! He wouldn’t be drawn back into a world of fear and terror. He was more than that! He had to be!

            He heard the soft patting of Ace’s feet on the stairs and turned around. The dog was growing old. Just like Poe himself was. “Go back to bed.” The smile came natural to him. He had barely ever known a creature so incredibly happy and satisfied with life as the dark blue dog now approaching him. Well, maybe apart from Polly… Poe still hadn’t figured out what the creature, which he had picked up on that Resistance base all those years ago, was. He sat down on the couch and Ace hopped on next to him. Beebee-Ate was on his other side, before Poe had even put his feet up on the small couch table.

            He took another sip of water. “This is all such a mess,” he muttered, burying his hand in Ace’s thick, soft fur… He hadn’t been terrified of falling asleep in a very long time. Heck, he hadn’t even thought about Bendar in years! And then he just waltzed in through the door of the restaurant with his kriffing wife.

            Beebee gave a long whistle and Poe shrugged. “Long story…” he sighed. “Bendar showed up today and I really wanted to break his nose… but there were too many witnesses, I suppose.” He couldn’t just start throwing punches in the middle of a public place… or could he? Beebee’s response made him laugh.

            “No, I’m not gonna go to his home and do it there.” Though he had to admit the suggestion wasn’t entirely unappealing. He leaned back and let Ace climb on his lap. The dog’s warmth was comforting and he forced himself to close his eyes. He was bigger than this… Bendar wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Not even in his dreams… and why would he? Hadn’t they made peace with the past on the day Bendar had been defeated?

            He bit his lip and opened his eyes again to look out at the dark backyard. He shouldn’t be upset about the past like this. It had been clear from the start that Bendar and he would meet up again at some point. After all, their children were attending the same school. They lived in the same city!

But so much had happened since that day on Askija. He was happier now. He and Finn had raised a child together. Yes, that child was away most of the time, training at that infernal Jedi school, but Mia was safe and apparently happy where she was. For a while he had worked for a private flying school, but it hadn’t been the same teaching city kids to fly agile, top-of-the line spaceships. So he had quit, learning how to play the quetarra when Mia had started pre-school, and by now he was proficient enough to teach beginners himself. It was a line of work he would never have imagined possible for himself, but then again, before this infernal business with Bendar and the people on Mia’s home planet, he hadn’t even seen himself as anything but a fighter pilot. Mia entering his life had changed so much… it had changed him!

With a sigh, and fully aware that he wasn’t going to get any sleep for the next two hours at least, he flicked on the holo, trying to distract himself from the thoughts of Bendar, even if that meant listening to endless reports on the strange plague which had started to spread several weeks ago… so far no one on Chadrila had fallen sick, but he had the strange feeling that was only a matter of time… still, he wanted his daughter to be with them, even if it was only for a short period of time. Even if she had become friends with Bendar’s kid… he shuddered, forcing himself to remember that his first love had also been a Bendar… so this kid might not be so bad either. Plus, Mia was a good judge of character, so that was important to remember as well.

His eyes flickered, as reporter started talking about the numbers of plague-victims climbing. Coruscant had just reported the ten thousandth victim…

He swallowed hard. Finn and his staff were already preparing for the outbreak on Chandrila, even if they knew that nothing would be able to stop it. But at least they could get supplies ready. At least they could make sure that they had pain killers. At least they could work on the data, medics all over the galaxy were sharing these days to try and determine what they were dealing with.

And Poe knew that he should be more terrified. That he should be more scared and worried than he was. And he was terrified. He was scared and worried. But maybe he wasn’t scared enough, even though there was nothing he could do but wait and hope that this would pass, too. There was nothing he could do to help these people. There was no battle station he could blow up to end this war of nature against civilization. He was utterly helpless and all he _could_ do was wait.

The droid beeped softly in a tone and with a sequence Poe hadn’t heard in a while. Years even… He sat up straight, Ace moving off his lap with a complaining yawn.

 

When dawn broke, the sky tinted light grey, Finn slowly made his way down the stairs. He had been awake ever since Poe got up, but he had sensed that Poe needed to be alone with his thoughts for a while. So he had just let him be. Sooner or later, Poe would share what was on his mind…

            Poe was sitting on the couch, hands folded behind his neck, the air around him vibrating with a tension Finn hadn’t sensed in a while.

            “Poe?” Finn asked softly, reaching out a hand to touch Poe’s back. He didn’t flinch away, but Poe’s hands dropped, his shoulders sagged.

            “What?” Finn moved around the couch, shooing Ace away with a wave of his hand. Beebee-Ate was standing so close to Poe, he was almost touching his knee.

            As Finn sat down on the couch, his skin started to prickle. Something terrible had happened. “Who-“

            Poe shook his head, wrapped his arms tightly around Finn and buried his face against his chest. “They want me back,” he whispered, swallowing hard. “They… they want someone neutral to oversee negotiations.”

            “What negotiations?” Finn asked, his brow furrowed. He kissed Poe’s hair and stroked his back. Negotiations had never been Poe’s strong suit so… who would want him for those?

            Poe cleared his throat, then he sat up again. “Apparently there’s this smuggler’s consortium… they grew in the Unkown Regions, but they have emerged in the Outer Rim apparently. It’s all been hushed up as far as possible until now, but they want to start expanding peacefully… as a nation of their own…”

            Finn raised his brows, then reached out and ran his thumb over the creases on Poe’s forehead. He had rarely looked so old to Finn.

Someone emerging out of the Unknown Regions, pretending to be trustworthy after declaring openly to have been involved in smuggling, didn’t sound trustworthy at all. “Who are they? And why you?”

            “They’re called the Free Federation. Apparently, they believe that coming to the New Republic as a nation would make us more cooperative to help them battle this plague.” Poe rubbed his hand over his eyes and leaned back. He looked exhausted. “Well… I’m not supposed to negotiate… just keep an eye on one of the people doing the negotiations.”

            “Who?” Finn had a bad feeling about this…

            “Since I was ‘involved in bringing him in’…” he sighed, then reached out towards Finn and took his hand again. “I’m supposed to keep an eye on Bendar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many characters in this story, at least for my standards. It's hard to give them all the credit they deserve ;) So... sorry if this isn't all Stormpilot :-D


	10. The First Stage

 

 

Leaning back in the uncomfortable duroplast chair, Poe read the message on the screen of his datapad for the umpteenth time.

_Don’t forget to meet us at the spaceport. F._

            How could he forget? Mia was coming home today to stay with them for a couple of days. He had been waiting for this for such a long time! It was one thing visiting her on Askija, a privilege he enjoyed only because Finn went there on a regular basis. Not that parents visiting was prohibited, it was just that most parents didn’t want to intrude.

            Mia hadn’t been home in such a long time and Poe couldn’t wait to pull her into his arms again. To spend time with her far away from the Jedi school, where she could be pulled back into lessons at any given time. Though, if he was honest, he wasn’t frustrated with the fact that she was with Rey and Skywalker and Antilles and all the others, what bothered him, was that she had grown up way too fast. Leaving the military all those years ago had been the right choice for him, but instead of falling into a routine which could hardly be called that, he had become a full-time father. At least for a while. He’d had Mia around him constantly for as long as he could… but then pre-school had started and he’d had to find something else to do… and now this. How could she be eleven already? Soon she’d be a teenager, a young woman.... If he was perfectly honest, the thought made him feel old and that was probably the worst part of being father to a child which couldn’t wait to be an adult. He didn’t see her for long stretches of time and every time he laid eyes on her again, she had changed. With a sentimental smile, he thought of his father, who had constantly complained about Poe outgrowing his clothes way too fast, but there had always been a soft twinkle in his eye. How well he could understand the old man now…

            Poe flicked through the pictures on his datapad, until he reached the one he was looking for. It showed Finn and Kes, Finn laughing out loud at some ridiculous story Kes had told him, and a two year old Mia sitting on her grandfather’s lap, her chubby hands on his cheeks. Neither of them had realized Beebee-Ate was taking a picture, but Poe had been glad the little droid had captured this moment. Only three months later his father passed away, but the moment captured by this one single picture had helped Poe get over the loss after a while. His father had led a good life, Poe thought, and he had earned it. Kes Dameron and his wife had spent most of their life on the run from the Empire, until they had joined the Alliance to Restore the Republic. After the battle of Endor they had retired to live on Yavin, much like he and Finn had moved to Chandrila and raised Mia.

            He turned his head when he heard the door. Looking at the pictures had managed to calm him down, but seeing Bendar standing in the doorway again, made his heart drop. He’d never get used to seeing him. Bendar’s eyes met his immediately and Poe had to remind himself not to let his agitation show. He forced his hands to relax and his face to remain impassive. But Bendar had seen the miniscule twitch in his fingers. Of course he had. Bendar was been an expert torturer after all.

            “Dameron.” It was more of a statement than a greeting, and Poe only nodded in response, as Bendar strode nearer to sit down two chairs down from Poe. At least he respected that Poe didn’t want him anywhere near him… not that Poe was particularly happy to realize that Bendar could still read him like a book.

            Poe let out a huff and rubbed his forehead. He had managed to get over this once. So he should be able to do it again. “Your kids coming back home today as well?” The words made his throat dry up. He hated to have to talk to Bendar like this. Bendar was a damn criminal, a slaver who had killed Mia’s and Finn’s blood relatives. He shouldn’t be allowed to walk free!

            “We don’t have to do this, you know?”

            “Prepare for the negotiations? Yeah, we do.”

            “We don’t have to do small talk. I don’t particularly like it myself.”

            With a snort, Poe got up from his chair. The scratching of its legs over the hardwood floor was somewhat satisfying. “Fine,” he hissed, hating the burning sensation in his gut which told him that he had lost again. He walked over to the set of windows, arms crossed over his chest. The sky over Hanna City was dark grey with clouds and he could barely see the buildings across the square, which were hidden from view by sheets of rain streaming down from overhead. “You’re late,” he said anyway. These negotiations were likely to take weeks at least and he’d have to find a way to get along with Bendar. Or at least be civil around him. He’d just have to remind himself, that Bendar had a family, too. Maybe that would help. Maybe thinking how Bendar’s youngest son becoming friends with Mia could be the beginning of mending bridges. Not between Poe and Bendar, but their two sides could become closer again. Maybe… if the next generation decided not to be enemies. The Jedi at least saw potential for that, he told himself, or else Bendar’s brats wouldn’t have been allowed in that Jedi school. And Bendar’s brother had been a decent being, too. That was something he had to remember as well…

            “Are you going to report me?”

            Poe pulled a face, but didn’t turn to look at Bendar. It was probably a good thing Bendar had been in prison for such a long time. That way at least his influence on his boys can’t have been too great. But who could tell what that wife of his was like.

            “Thought so…”

            Poe could hear the smile in Bendar’s voice, and it made his insides clench. It reminded him too much of hours spent in that chair, with Bendar’s face only looming inches from his. He heard the rustling of clothes behind him, then Bendar’s footsteps. Next moment Bendar was at the other window two metres away from Poe and also staring out at the rainy square. Shortly after the war, the Imperials had arranged for a massacre right there. Bendar must know about it, too. The monument erected in the centre of the square was clearly visible, despite the rain. This place seemed to represent everything separating them.

            “Why didn’t you just take off first chance you got?” Poe asked, despite himself.

            “My wife,” Bendar answered curtly, as though that was enough of an explanation. And it probably was. Poe knew that Bendar was still under supervision, and how could he not be. But if he’d wanted, he could have found a way off planet one way or the other. There was this other side to Bendar, which Poe still hadn’t managed to accept. Yes, Bendar was a father and a husband. He had been a brother, too. But all of these things were overshadowed by all the other things Poe associated with him.

            Poe shrugged, unable to comment. In a way he was glad Bendar was still being forced to make up for his crimes, but that also meant that now he had to spend time with him. Quite frankly, he’d have been more grateful, had Bendar managed to get away and taken his family along with him.

            Silence fell between them again, but there was nothing to do but wait. There was nothing to talk about. Nothing to say. Too much had happened, but simply being in the same room as Bendar was excruciating. The rain outside grew heavier, and Poe wiped his brow, feeling the headache creep up on him, just like it had done these past few days. Anticipating the beginning of the talks alone had taken a toll from him.

            “Have you been working here?”

            Poe could hear the hesitation in Bendar’s voice, as though the other man was afraid of Poe’s answer. He shrugged. “No,” he answered. “I resigned several years ago.” No need to go into detail. No need to inform Bendar about Mia or the terrible disaster in which Bendar’s orders had led to a situation in which Finn was the only blood relative Mia had left.

            “Ah.” Bendar didn’t seem to want to press the point any further, though he must be wondering why they had asked Poe to keep an eye on him.

            “I suppose _you_ know this Moira Kumran person?”

            Bendar shrugged, and when Poe turned to look at him, he saw that Bendar’s jaw muscles were tight. So he did know her… Someone watching his and Kumran’s interactions with the so-called Free Federation was probably a good idea, Poe thought. But why did Kaydel Ko Connix have to recommend _him_ for the job? Him of all people?

            “Wonderful…” Poe muttered. Connix had been in the Resistance, too, and she had made her way up command, until she had ben General Organa’s right hand during and after the war. When Organa retired, it had seemed natural that Connix would take over her diplomatic duties. And now Connix had put him into this impossible situation. A situation he couldn’t escape, because he didn’t trust Bendar in the slightest and that made him a good observer, especially since he knew what might be at stake. He couldn’t say that he particularly liked the idea of the New Republic working alongside the Free Federation to defeat this disease, but he also knew that they needed all hands on deck if they wanted a chance to deal with this crisis. Poe was an outsider, but he also knew Bendar, more or less. He was deemed trustworthy by the New Republic and he could see why Connix would think of him. They knew each other, or at least, he and Organa knew each other and there could be no doubt Organa was still pulling strings in the background.

            “Have you heard of this Free Federation before?”

            Bendar nodded slightly, and Poe couldn’t say he was surprised. Meelan Bendar had been working for the New Republic, at least from what he had read in the file on him, which Connix had provided for him. That had been part of the deal for his early release from prison. Bendar worked for the government, and now he was supposed to be part of the negotiating team with the Free Federation. And the Free Federation looked an awful lot like a society mostly consisting of former First Order people. Of course, Bendar had heard of them.

            “They’re not as bad as you may think.”

            Poe snorted. “Whatever, Bendar.” He turned, when the door slid open and a tall, blonde woman with close-cropped hair walked in on long legs, her green eyes darting from Poe to Bendar. She was carrying a datapad and her long robe had just swept through the door, when she pointed at the table. “Gentlemen...”

            No handshake then. Well, that was fine by him. Poe sat down without looking at Bendar again. Kumran pulled the nearest her chair out from under the table and took a seat, then she put her datapad into a slot in the table and immediately the holos in front of Poe and Bendar lit up, showing a map of the galaxy. The very same map, Poe had seen several times before on the news. The red dots showed all the planets on which the plague had been registered. More than half of the map glowed violently red, a crimson shadow creeping into the galaxy from the Unknown Regions. Right where the Free Federation claimed to be coming from. Poe’s stomach tightened, as he looked up at Kumran and realized that she still wasn’t looking at either him, or Bendar. Her fingers were practically flying over her datapad, but her eyes were fixed on a point on the table. Something was off here. With a furrowed brow, he looked at Bendar, who didn’t seem to be too confused by this unusual behaviour, and then Poe saw the thin silver bracelets Kumran was wearing. Finn had told him about these once. They were a relatively new invention, as far as Poe remembered, especially designed to help those patients whose eyesight could never be repaired. They helped those people move about, measuring distances to certain objects and transmitting those information to a chip placed inside the brain, making it possible for these people to move about freely without having to rely on guide-droids or other impractical devices. However, Kumran seemed to have mastered the art not to be too conspicuous. Her eyes, too, must be manipulated somehow.

            “I’m sorry, I’m a little late,” she said, and Poe barely held back a scoff. Surely an hour wasn’t just “a little late”. She tapped her datapad, and a moon in the far reaches of the western Outer Rim lit up. “This is where we will be meeting up. A space station near Rahbak. The confirmation has just come in from the Free Federation’s embassador.”

            “Are we really comfortable dealing with them, though?” Poe asked, though he knew exactly how little say he had in the matter. Kumran’s eyes fluttered up to him, not quite meeting his gaze, but her lips were pressed into a thin line, making her face look wider than it already was.

            “The Free Federation are offering us their research. This plague has been spreading through the Unknown Region for years now.”

            “And how can we be sure they don’t have anything to do with that?” Poe raised an eyebrow, unwilling to look at Bendar. “Aren’t they First Order?”

            “Even the First Order wouldn’t seek to destroy more than half of the galaxy’s population, Dameron,” Bendar said and Poe shot him a venomous look.

            “No, they preferred blowing up entire systems without a warning.”

            Bendar rolled his eyes. “That’s old news, Dameron. Don’t you-“

            “Shut up!” Poe had jumped to his feet before he knew what he was doing. He hadn’t spent most of his life fighting men like Bendar to be forced to take this! He wouldn’t stand for Bendar insulting the memories of billions of beings! Images of the infirmary tent on Birken Six shot through his head. Of Mia’s grandmother, and that fragile looking baby amidst the reek of death and rain and mud. “You have no idea, what you’re talking about!”

            Bendar hadn’t moved. And he still didn’t when Poe approached him, fists clenched. “Dameron, I-“

            “I agree with Mister Dameron.” Kumran’s sharp voice cut through the air like a knife, making Poe flinch. What in the blazes was he doing here? He wiped his hand over his throbbing forehead again.

            “We can’t afford to put trust into people we hardly know anything about, but we have to remember that they are offering valuable information. Please, Mister Dameron, we have to stay calm here.”

            Her words did nothing to appease him, but he sat down anyway, heart thumping wildly in his chest and his fists clenched. She was right, though.  They had to work through this. He had to work through this. He was bigger than this. He had to be.

            “Very well. The Free Federation’s ambassador is meeting us on our base. We have the high ground here, but they seem to be just as desperate for a solution to this crisis as we are. That is why we are going there at all. We _are_ desperate! Today, the first case has been reported on Chandrila, too. Senator Naberrie of Naboo has died this morning.”

            Poe swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. Chandrila wasn’t safe anymore… someone had died… Mia was coming here… He shouldn’t have allowed this to happen! He should have kept her safe! His hands were wet with sweat and it was all he could do to stay in his seat and not immediately reach for his datapad to alert Finn. To make sure he prevented that ship from landing.

            Bendar cleared his throat. “When… when did this happen?” He sounded hoarse. Scared even. Poe’s eyes flew towards him. Bendar was as white as a sheet. Of course. His son was on board that ship, too.

            “The news reached me about half an hour ago.” Kumran ignored the distress in Bendar’s voice and kept typing. “We’re expecting these talks to take about a week.”

            Poe felt his heart sink. He didn’t have time for this. The last thing he wanted to do was hang around one more second in this damn conference room and talk politics. “Fine,” Poe hissed. “Since you have so wonderfully wasted my time already, today, can you just cut to the chase now and tell me when we’re supposed to be leaving for this accursed place? I have a family to get to, you know?”

            Kumran’s eyes turned unseeing towards him, her mouth twisted into a grimace. “Like I said, I’m sorry for the delay.” She sighed, swiping her long finger over her datapad and a thin durosteel plate, about two inches long and one inch wide, slid up from an opening next to the holo. “Your clearance chips. We will meet the day after tomorrow at the spaceport. Someone will come to pick you up.”

            “Fine,” Poe hissed again. “See you then.” He was out of his chair, before Kumran had even shut down her datapad. He grabbed his own and stuffed the clearance chip into his pocket. Without turning to look back, he headed straight for the door, his footsteps matching the rhythm of his thumping heart.

            He rushed along the corridor, ignoring the guards staring at him as he hurried towards the door.

            “Dameron!” came a voice behind him, but he didn’t stop until he’d reached the exit towards the main building and he had to put his hand on the scanner.

            “What?” he hissed, as he felt Bendar’s presence and heard the other man’s laboured breathing. “Would you mind giving me a lift towards the spaceport?”

            In fact, he did mind. He minded a lot, but one look over his shoulder, at the stark white face and the huge eyes, made him nod. At this particular moment Poe saw Morap again in those eyes. Morap, after a mission that had gone horribly wrong. They were on the same boat here. At least for a while, they not only had to work together, they were troubled by the same thing.

            Poe swallowed hard. “You get in contact with your wife. See if we can stop that ship from landing…” Who could tell how many, yet undiscovered cases of the plague had turned up on Chandrila so far. He bit his lip, and as the door slid open, he started hurrying towards the hangar.

            But neither Finn, nor Nataleeh Bendar were able to reach the ship. A ship, which never made it to Chandrila.

 

 


	11. Lost

 

Poe was calmer on the outside than on the inside. Finn sensed it through every single ripple in the Force and it made the hair on his neck stand on end. He couldn’t even pay attention to the Bendars standing only feet away from them, unable to speak, unable to move.

            Poe’s hand reached for his, their fingers intertwining. The only piece of him that didn’t feel numb. What made the whole thing worse, unbearable even, was that he hadn’t sensed it. He hadn’t sensed that something was wrong, when he usually even knew when Mia was slightly distressed. Only now did he realize that he hadn’t sensed her at all. She had simply slipped away, and now there was nothing but fear for her life left on his mind.

            Rey had only just switched off her comm, after telling them that Nej had left Askija two days ago and should have arrived on Chandrila by now. When they had told her what had happened, she had gone horribly pale, and Finn had sensed her distress, even from afar. They hadn’t received a message from Nej, and she had promised to look into the situation straight away before closing the channel. But Finn knew that she wouldn’t find anything, even though they were bound to turn over every single stone on that base.

            “This is a waste of time,” he said, getting up from the co-pilot’s chair of the _Shara_. Poe was sitting in his chair, staring blankly at the consoles. “I’m not going to wait here and do nothing, while they try to track down my kid!”

            Bendar’s head whipped around. “What are you suggesting we do? Comb the entire galaxy?”

            The _we_ struck Finn almost out of the blue. He put his hand on his chair and looked down at Poe. It took a while for Poe to return his gaze, and the grief in Poe’s eyes made Finn want to scream. He felt exactly the same. “I’m going to start by retracing Antilles’s steps,” Finn said, his voice so much calmer than his screaming mind. “Just follow the route he should have taken. Find out if there’s anything I can do.” He saw Poe opening his mouth, beginning to speak, but Finn held up his hand. “You can’t go,” he said decisively, and though he sensed the outrage coming from Poe, he also sensed that Poe knew he was right.

            “I’ll go with you.”

            Finn’s head snapped around. Bendar’s wife was standing up straight, her eyes fixed on Finn, jaw set.

“My son is missing as well.”

Finn had barely looked at her, his history with the Order and her husband’s treatment of Poe and himself keeping him from engaging in conversation with her. He knew exactly who she was. A general’s daughter. Someone who had enjoyed all the privileges the First Order had had to offer. She and Bendar must have been a strange match back in the day, but now he saw the determination in her eyes and the strength emanating from her. A strength which had nothing to do with privilege.

Bendar next to her pressed his lips together. It was obvious how little he liked the idea of his wife going off with Finn. “I-“ he began, but Nataleeh Bendar cut him off with a single look.

“No, you won’t,” she said curtly. “You will not risk going to jail again. And they need you for the negotiations. You and Dameron.”

“She’s right,” Poe said through clenched teeth, getting up from his chair. His face was grey, his lips drained of colour. “And if all goes to hell, if Finn and - Nataleeh, right?” He looked at her, his eyes steady.

She nodded.

“If all goes to hell,” Poe continued, “If they don’t find anything, we can still run off to join them, or look somewhere else.” He swallowed hard and wiped his hand over his forehead, the way he had done a lot recently. The anticipation of the upcoming negotiations was already getting to him.

Bendar scoffed. “Fine,” he said testily. It was obvious how much he hated the idea of doing nothing, or at least what felt like nothing to him. All their priorities had shifted. Finn would have to bail out of work, and though he already dreaded telling his colleagues, especially after the plague had claimed its first victim here on Chandrila, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t leave this in Rey’s hands. He loved her. He trusted her. But Rey, in turn, trusted Nej Antilles.

 

Poe was standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the duffle bag Finn was holding. They had agreed that Poe wouldn’t accompany Finn to the spaceport. He’d have to leave soon, too, and the more time they wasted, the more precarious Mia’s situation might become.

            “You go, get her back,” Poe said hoarsely, lifting his head.

            Finn nodded, his heart missing a beat. He hated hearing these words. He hated the necessity of them having to be spoken out loud. Mia was missing. Their beautiful, strong-willed daughter had vanished and where the hell would he start looking for her, once Askija proved a dead-end, as he knew it would. He didn’t hesitate, when Poe stepped forward to wrap his arms around him.

He smelled good. So familiar and comforting, even in his own distress. “I love you,” Poe whispered, his breath brushing over Finn’s neck.

Finn nodded, his hand on the back of Poe’s head. He didn’t need to say it. Poe knew how much Finn cared about him. About the man he had met all those years ago. The man who had rescued him time and time again during the war and who was the only man he could ever have imagined being with for the rest of his life. “I gotta go,” he said softly, pressing his lips to Poe’s cheeks.

“Yeah, you do.” Behind Poe, Finn could see the dark-blue dog wag its tail. Finn smiled softly despite himself. Ace was growing old, too.

“Have you talked to Jess, yet?”

Poe nodded. “She’s coming over in a few minutes.”

“Alright.” Finn sighed, his mind racing. “Good luck, then.” He’d find Mia. He had to! He would! There was no other possible outcome.

“You can do this,” Poe said, letting go of him and taking a step. “If anyone can, it’s you.”

And Finn knew that Poe trusted him. That beyond any reason, Poe knew he could get this done. Finn nodded, then he turned away from him, ignoring the feeling of dread creeping up on him.

 

It was all she could do to hold his gaze for just another moment longer. They had come such a long way. In the beginning, she had been happy playing the role of wife and mother. She had gladly embraced the life with him, had endured the separation forced on them by the war with stoic resilience. And then, after the war, when she and Meelan had started building a society far away from the New Republic, she had become more. She had become his partner in more ways. She had gotten to know him. He had become more than her lover, the father of her child, and her husband. He had become _her_ accomplice, _her_ partner. And here she was now, years later, so far removed from the man she loved, and yet there was no doubt about their bond. She couldn’t help but detest the man he became on occasion, the stubborn person who wanted to do nothing but flee the Republic, but her husband was still there. The one she could stand by. The one who supported her and their children. He didn’t have a place in this new, everchanging galaxy. How could she possibly blame him for hating the galaxy in return? But now, she thought, he was more focused than he had ever been. Not on the negotiations, but on other things. On their son. On this mission she was going on. To a place he couldn’t follow.

            Nataleeh shook her head, stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek. There was no way he could go out there to look for Yoann. If he got caught, he’d be in jail for the rest of his life and as of yet, when they had no lead of where to look anyway, the risk was too big. “I’ll let you know as soon as we find out where they are.”

            “Let me know if you have a hunch,” he whispered, pulling her close to him, his strong arms sure and steady around her torso. The way they had been before his time in jail. He was trembling and she knew exactly why. He was terrified. Terrified for his son’s safety, of the future, but more than anything, he was furious. Furious at her for allowing their children to still be in the Republic. Yes, he had agreed to them being trained by the Jedi, though reluctantly. He hadn’t fought their decision to stay on Askija, once they had managed to get their powers under control. And now he felt helpless and angry and Nataleeh couldn’t even blame him.

            Nodding, she pushed away from him, and he let her go. He hated that he couldn’t come along, but this was her job now. Her duty. Her responsibility. “Remember what Dameron said,” she said softly, ignoring the cold creeping into his eyes as soon as he heard the name, “The two of you will be joining us, sooner than later.”

            Meelan scoffed. “If he doesn’t kill me before that.” He was only half joking, she knew, though she had to admit that that was better than nothing. The chasm between them had grown wider than ever before over these last few years, but that didn’t matter now. Though he hated that he couldn’t be the one in charge, he had acknowledged that she could go.  That she had to go.

            She nodded slowly and disentangled herself from his embrace. “We’ll keep in touch,” she said softly, then moved towards the door. The apartment felt even emptier now, that she knew her son was missing, even though Yoann hadn’t called this place home in quite a while. And that emptiness drove her out faster than Meelan’s loneliness and self-pity. She couldn’t handle it on top of everything else.

            When she reached to bottom of the stairs, she saw the speeder already waiting for her, engine running. She took a deep breath, then she opened the door and slid into the passenger seat beside the former Stormtrooper.

Finn… what a strange name. What a strange person. She had heard of him, of course. Everyone in the Order had. First FN-2187 had been nothing but a rumour, but then, when his story had started to roll through the main stream media of the Republic, it had reached her, too. A Stormtrooper gone rogue. No one would have thought such a thing possible, and then, all of a sudden, it had happened. She remembered all too well Armitage’s boasting speeches of his Stormtrooper program. How humiliating it must have been for him, when one of them had become a Resistance fighter. She smirked slightly.

            She looked at him out of the corner of his eye, as he accelerated the speeder and she was pushed into the seat. He was tense, his eyes staring unblinking through the windshield as they rushed towards the spaceport. Only a day ago, she wouldn’t even have considered talking to him, yet here she was, on a mission to search for their lost children.

            Lost.

            Her heart contracted painfully and she turned her head away from him. Yoann… Yoann wasn’t lost.

He was missing.

That word, too, made her tremble, but at least it didn’t make her want to throw herself off the next building. She closed her eyes, trying to push away all thoughts and memories of Yoann, so she wouldn’t start crying in front of this stranger. But with every ounce of strength she put forward to fend off the memories of Yoann like he was already gone, the more prominent became the pictures of him and Morap. Morap… he must feel even more helpless than she did. Yoann had wanted his brother to come along, too, but Morap had his trials coming up. Morap couldn’t accompany his brother and now Morap must be wondering if he could have stopped this from happening…

            “Has Skywalker contacted you again?” she asked into the silence, as Finn pulled the speeder to a stop on one of the landing platforms.

            “No,” he answered curtly, getting out of the speeder and pulling his duffle bag over his shoulder. “I’ll comm her, before we take off.”

            Nataleeh nodded, picked up her own bag from the back seat and stopped dead, as soon as she saw the stuffed animal lying behind Finn’s seat. It was dark purple, some sort of reptile, with big, yellow eyes. Mia must be too big for these toys now, but the fact that her fathers still kept it in their car, though she didn’t even live with them, made her breath catch in her chest. Stars, she only hoped Mia and Yoann were alright. And hope was all she had. Her instincts had failed her. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel anything beyond numbness and senseless rage.

She closed her eyes for a moment, took a few, deep breaths and when she opened them again, she saw her own emotions reflected in the eyes of the man standing in front of her.

No.

It was no wonder, FN-2187 had managed to break free.

 

 

 


	12. Flight

 

 

Luke and Rey were sitting across from him, eying him with unreadable looks on their faces. He had been with them for about an hour now. Didn’t they believe him? Did they seriously think he knew anything about this whole thing?

            His little brother was missing! Why would he be part of this?! He swallowed hard and got up from his chair without asking for permission. “We’re done here, right?” he asked testily. “You don’t believe me… fine… but if you suspect me of collaborating with Nej, then you should be interrogated, too.” He pointed an accusing finger at Rey. She and Nej hadn’t been a couple for years now, as far as Morap knew, but she was still close to him. Closer than anyone, probably.

            Rey scowled at him. “You’ve been his student for the last few years,” she shot back. “You spent more time with him than anyone.”

            Morap shrugged. “In case you haven’t noticed: we didn’t get along too well. He didn’t want me, and I didn’t want him and-“

            “This isn’t helping anyone at the moment.” Luke got up, too, his eyes weary and heavy-lidded. “It’s no use blaming each other. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.” He looked fragile all of a sudden. Fragile and older than ever before. He looked at Rey, a sad smile on his face and she held his gaze for a long while. “I’m sorry,” Luke said to her, and then he turned at Morap. “I let everyone down… I thought you and Nej could be a good team. He-“

            Morap shrugged. “What’s done is done.” He had learned a lot, that much was true, though he wasn’t sure he and Nej would ever have managed to become friends. He and Nej had been a good team for the most part, but their interactions had always been rather distant, and the reasons had always been way too obvious. “Can’t be helped. I just want my brother back.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Turning around on his heel, he marched out the room, slamming the door shut behind him and he didn’t pause until he had reached the rooftop. Breathing in the icy night air, he put his hands on his hips and looked up at the night sky. Somewhere out there was his brother. Yoann and his friend Mia… there had been no reason to deny the two young students the short trip home. A lot of the younger ones went back to their families every now and again, and it was usually one of the older Jedi who accompanied them… Nej had done this more than once and occasionally Morap had accompanied him on these trips, especially if Nej was on a mission from the Order…

            Morap collapsed on the cold surface of the roof, putting his head between his knees. Why hadn’t he sensed anything? Why hadn’t he been able to tell that Nej wasn’t just an unpleasant person to be around, but that something was downright off. He shut his eyes tight, reaching out with the Force, looking for a trace of his brother in the endless whirlwind the universe was. Why hadn’t he been able to sense Yoann slipping from him? Where could he be?!

            The lump in his throat he had felt since Rey had woken him mere hours before, to tell him that Mia and Yoann had vanished along with Nej, started to spread. His hands were shaking. Could he be sure that Nej was responsible for all of this? But who else? Wouldn’t Nej had sent out a distress signal, had they run into trouble? But what if the array was broken?

            Morap bit on his lip to stifle a frustrated groan. How could he tell? How would he know? He didn’t seem to know anything anymore. His own brother, the person closest to him in the entire universe had vanished and he hadn’t even known, until Rey had roused him from his peaceful sleep! How could he have slept through this? Why-

            Pushing the questions aside, Morap tried to focus again. On the Force. On the lives around him. On the energies binding every single thing together. But Yoann was gone… there wasn’t even a trace of him left. He wasn’t dead… that was for sure… he’d be able to sense that at least- or would he? Swallowing hard, Morap ignored the steps behind him and the presence of the person coming after him. He couldn’t deal with another talk like the one he’d had just now. He couldn’t deal with Luke Skywalker’s self-pity on top of everything else, nor with Rey’s desperation.

            Morap looked up as he heard the door slide open behind him. It wasn’t Rey. Or Luke for that matter.

            “Rey just told me,” he heard Ben’s voice, but he didn’t look around.

            Morap shrugged, biting back a childish response. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want company and he didn’t want sympathy. Staying here… waiting for something, anything, seemed impossible. And it was tearing him apart. “I don’t know how this could have happened…” he said softly to the night air, staring out at the dark forest and the tinge of grey over the mountains.

            “Neither can she, apparently,” Ben said, ignoring Morap’s apparent aversion and sitting down next to him. “Nej has been different as of late.”

            Morap wiped his face, getting rid of the tears staining his cheeks. “You never liked each other anyway.”

            “No.” Ben shrugged and leaned back. “I don’t like myself most days.” The soft, sardonic grin didn’t exactly make Ben more approachable, but Morap didn’t comment. He had no idea what was going on in Ben’s head and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.

            “I don’t have time for this,” Morap whispered, knowing full well that he was probably ruining his chances of getting away by speaking it out loud. But to his surprise, Ben didn’t protest. When Morap turned his head, he merely saw him staring out at the rising sun.

            Morap nodded and got to his feet. The sun had started to rise over the tips of the mountains now, basking the treetops into an unearthly reddish light. Morap’s heart was racing now. He’d go straight away. He’d get one of the two transports sitting on the landing platforms and go after Yoann.

            He had to. He turned towards the door.

            Ben nodded and got up as well. “I’m going with you,” he said quietly, making Morap stop in his tracks. His face must have shown his surprise, because Ben grinned slightly and moved past him. “This whole thing makes me uneasy. And I don’t think Luke is going to send anyone else after them.”

            “You’re just gonna go? Just like that?”

            “No, not just like that. I’m going to tell Luke what we’re gonna do. Whatever’s going on here, no one should try to get to the bottom of it on their own. And someone has to know what we’re up to.”

            Morap scowled, not liking the idea of trying to convince Luke to let him go. He’d never allow it, surely.

            “Stop sulking,” Ben said curtly, opening the door and moving inside. “You’re too old for that sort of thing.”

 

The ships, about ten of them, arrived early the next morning. Morap was standing in front of the _Falcon,_ watching their approach carefully. Several days ago, a message from the Senate had reached Askija, asking the Jedi for help in the battle of the plague. So far none of the Jedi had been infected and though it seemed like there was nothing they could do, the Republic had summoned them. For the first time, since the Order had been rebuilt, the Jedi were supposed to swarm out and deal with a problem they couldn’t possibly help with… not really. But maybe the Republic just thought that news of Jedi spreading out, might calm down the panic… Morap didn’t know and he couldn’t care less. Yoann was the only thing left on his mind and the tight knot in the pit of his stomach made him ache to get going. But Ben hadn’t arrived yet. He was still with Hux in their small house. Morap remembered too well the talk between Ben and Hux he had overheard, but he’d never brought it up. Now was not the time, either. His mother was on her way, too. But he couldn’t wait for her. He told himself, it was because there was no time to waste, but in truth he was terrified of seeing her. He had let her down… he hadn’t managed to protect Yoann…

            He looked up at the ships starting the ships’ well choreographed descent and with every inch they grew nearer, he felt the temptation growing of just running up the ramp and starting the _Falcon’s_ engines. Before he could though, he saw Ben striding towards him, his face pale and jaw set. “Let’s go,” he said in a tense voice, just as Rey, Luke and a few other Jedi, including Jo-pur stepped out of the main building. His friend threw him an encouraging smile, but Morap ignored it. He had never felt so removed from the lot of them than he did at this very moment.

 

“Ren’s leaving,” Finn murmured, watching the _Millenium Falcon_ take off. He was following the Republic’s ships at a distance, so he wouldn’t disturb their flight pattern. He had been surprised to see the ships in orbit, but Rey had informed him of their purpose as soon as he had commed her. The Jedi had been asked to step up, but they didn’t have enough transports to do so, yet. That’s why the Republic’s ships had been sent.

            The plague had been pushed from his mind, but seeing those ships made his insides churn. But there was nothing to be done. He couldn’t help. All he could to was try and get his daughter back. That was his number one responsibility and for all he cared the universe could end if he didn’t manage to get her back.

            “What about Hux?”

            Finn looked at her, taken aback. How could she know Hux was down there? Shaking his head, he turned back to the console and moved the ship down to the surface. “There’s someone else with him, but I don’t think it’s Hux…” It was another Force user and Finn had a feeling who that might be. He wasn’t going to upset Nataleeh any further however. This woman was a mystery to him, and he didn’t think he’d solve it too soon. She was evidently independent and preferred living in the Republic over hiding somewhere with her husband, where they could indulge in their sick First Order ideology. She had a job, had raised her children, not only to accept the ways of the Republic, but to go here to Askija to follow the Jedi way of life. But at the same time, she remained with Bendar, who didn’t appear to have changed at all… and she knew about Hux. What that was about, he didn’t know, but it alarmed him somewhat, that she did. Were they in contact? Had her sons’ presence on Askija made that contact possible?

            He landed the _Shara_ on the strip of green in front of the school. It had started to rain during their approach and he could barely see the building now, though he felt each and every presence within and outside. Rey was approaching their ship. She was nervous. Nervous and tense. Finn looked at Nataleeh, but she was already at the ramp at the back.

            “How does this open?” she muttered angrily, scanning the buttons on the console.

            “Are you going to punch someone?” he asked, “because if you are, I should probably lock you up right now and-“

            “Don’t you dare!” she whirled around to him, her eyes aflame with impatience and terror. “I need to talk to my son!”

            Finn nodded. “Believe me, I know…” So did he. In fact, he wanted to talk with everyone who might have been involved in this business. The fact that Rey was still so very far from calm, told him everything he needed to know. This wasn’t a misunderstanding at all.

            Finn punched in the combination, which unlocked the door. Beebee-Ate had installed the programming on Poe’s orders back when Mia had been smaller to make sure she didn’t lower the ramp at inopportune moments. The damp smell of moss, grass, mud and trees streamed into the too-clean air of the ship, as the ramp was lowered. He saw Rey standing there, wearing a dark grey cape, a hood pulled into her face. She made a step towards them, but Nataleeh pushed past him and was on the ground before the ramp had even touched it.

“Where’s Morap?!” she shouted over the roaring sound of dying engines. The Republic starships were only just powering down.

“He-“ Rey brushed a hand over her face, and looked up at Finn for a moment. “He left just now. He’s looking for Yoann and Mia.”

So that had been the other presence aboard the _Falcon_. Finn closed his eyes for a moment. Of course Skywalker would never deny someone the right to go looking for family. Why should he? He, of all people.

“You sent him off with Ren?!” Finn couldn’t help himself. The team-up seemed far from ideal! They had only just lost all their faith in Nej, why would they trust Ren with another Padawan right after that?!

Nataleeh was trembling, drops of rain streaming down her face. “Where is Hux, then?”

Finn could practically hear the _I’ll deal with you later._ Blaming her was out of the question. She was right, of course and she had ever right to be angry at the people here for not taking care of their children… but what Hux had to do with all of this, Finn had no idea.

“Why would you want him?” Rey didn’t even deny he was here. “What-“

“Where?!” Nataleeh was fuming, and Finn could tell that things would be escalating sooner rather than later.

“Hey! It’s not my fault your son isn’t here!” Rey was scowling now, fists clenched.

He stepped forward and nodded at Rey. “I’ll take her. See you inside?” And he knew they were wasting time. He just knew it. With every passing second Mia and Yoann might be getting further and further away from them, and all this woman could think about was talking to the former general. But he sensed that she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had spoken to him… and maybe she had a point. Maybe Hux had something to do with this whole thing… but Nej had always hated the First Order, had hated having Ren and Hux around, so why would he even consider working with Hux? And what could Hux have to gain from this?

Rey nodded, eyes fixed on Nataleeh with a glare so cold it made Finn want to recoil from her. He had rarely seen her like this. “Fine, I’ll be inside overseeing the send-off.”

The walk from their landing site to the small house which Hux inhabited with Ren wasn’t a long one, but Finn kept glancing over his shoulder at the Jedi leaving and provisions being unloaded. This place was going to be as good as empty in a few hours, with only the youngest students and their carers left on here…. well… them and Hux.

Finn hadn’t spoken to him or Ren in years and he wasn’t planning on doing it now. This was a waste of time, and she must know it! He pointed her towards the building, but couldn’t bring himself to turn away now. He had a feeling that Nataleeh Bendar was up to something. That she knew something. She clearly wasn’t the type of person to lose her focus like this, or at least she hadn’t appeared to be until now.

She nodded briefly, then walked towards the door.

Finn hesitated for a moment as she waited for Hux to open. Hux wasn’t supposed to be in contact with people who weren’t on Askija. In fact, this had been part of the deal, as far as Finn knew. He’d talked to Rey about it, shortly after he and Poe and brought Mia here.

Ren had surrendered to the Resistance. In fact, he’d surrendered to him, Rey and General Organa, pleading for help. Help for what, Finn hadn’t found out until a few years ago. Apparently he and Hux had gotten too close, ensuring Hux’s death sentence. And Ren hadn’t been able to free his lover on his own. He’d needed his mother. Back then, Finn had been too engaged medical training to concern himself further with what was going to happen to Ren, so he hadn’t paid too much attention. All he knew now, was that Rey and Luke had apparently managed to free Hux with the help of Ren, ensuring Hux’s cooperation in exchange for his freedom. If being confined to a single planet with no contact to the rest of the galaxy could be called freedom.

The door swished open, and as the man who had once lead the Stormtrooper programme was revealed, his hair longer than ever, beard grey and his eyes bloodshot, Finn couldn’t bring himself to feel anything.

Hux’s eyes focused on Nataleeh first, his mouth twisting into a semi smile. His lips were cracked, Finn saw. What the hell was going on here? “Hello,” Hux said hoarsely and, looking up at Finn, his face hardened. He nodded briefly at him and stepped aside, his eyes loosing all warmth.

“What brings you here?” he asked Nateleeh, pointedly ignoring Finn.

For a moment, Finn considered just turning around and leave, but Nataleeh’s main focus simply couldn’t be to just visit an old acquaintance. Not in this situation.

“You know what,” Nataleeh spat at him. “How could you let this happen?”

Hux laughed. A mirthless, unhappy laugh. “I can’t even leave this base without permission, how was I supposed to have stopped anything?” Shaking his head, he retreated to the small living room, looking out into the forest and Finn followed closely after Nataleeh. Hux looked terrible and Finn had to admit, he hadn’t imagined Hux to allow himself to be seen in this state. Being perfectly honest, he was surprised, even if he couldn’t say he was sorry to see Hux like this. On the contrary. It gave him a sense of satisfaction to see Hux collapse into an armchair like he barely managed to stay on his feet.

“You could have let me know!” Nataleeh said. “About this Antilles guy! You must have some idea where he took them?!”

Hux raised an eyebrow, then turned to look at Finn. “Do you believe this?” he said with a sardonic smile. “She thinks I know these people here. And why are you here anyway? Come to gloat?”

Finn didn’t respond. He had to focus so hard not to rush forward and punch Hux in the face, he couldn’t do anything but stare at him. As if Hux didn’t know what he had done, not only to him, but to billions of others who had been forced into the Stormtrooper programme. As if Hux didn’t know he was responsible for the entire galaxy drowning in chaos during the war… and here he was, living in a comfortable house with his partner, and feeling sorry for himself.

“I asked you a question, Armitage Hux!” Nataleeh put her hands on her hips, glowering at Hux with a ferocity which seemed to leave Hux utterly unimpressed. He wiped his mouth and closed his eyes.

“What do you want me to tell you, Nat? I’m merely more than a janitor here, and most people ignore me if they can. Antilles is a jackass, but that’s obvious to everyone now. But there was nothing obviously wrong about him…”

“And your channels? What do your contacts know?”

Contacts? Finn crossed his arms over his chest, frowning at the two of them, who seemingly had decided to ignore him. “What do you mean?” he said, stepping closer. Well, at least it was clear that Hux and Nataleeh were still in contact, but who else was Hux talking to? And how?

Hux shrugged, putting his arm down again. It seemed to be wet. Was he drunk? “I know a thing or two about slicing, no big deal.”

“He’s in contact with the Free Federation.” Nataleeh added. “And they’re basically the First Order, right?”

Finn swallowed hard, but he didn’t look at Nataleeh. He kept his eyes focused on Hux instead. He looked tired. Sweat was clearly visible on his forehead and the skin of his nose looked almost raw.

“Maybe…” Hux said drunkenly. “To be honest, they might be, but I’m sure as hell not gonna get in contact with them. At leas I’m not gonna tell them who I am. That could be quite uncomfortable for me…”

“Is Nej part of their organization?” Finn asked, looking at the stain on Hux’s sleeve and only now realizing that there were dark stains on the chair, too.

“Don’t think so. He’s too… clean, I suppose.” He coughed, and before he knew it, Finn held a hand out, before Nataleeh could make a step towards Hux.

“How long has this been going on?” Finn asked sternly, pushing Nataleeh away from Hux with such force, she almost fell over the coffee table.

“Antilles being clean? I don’t know, forever probably…”

Finn shook his head. “Shut up, will you?”

Hux scoffed. “Yes, you start giving me orders now as well… sounds about right.”

“Finn, what-“ Nataleeh was staring incredulously at Finn, but realization of what was happening here was aready dawning on her face.

 “Just stay away from him,” Finn said and hurried over to a door leading away from the combined kitchen and living room. As he had expected, he found himself in the bathroom. He quickly found the first-aid kit and within it a pair of gloves. He was sure they weren’t going to help much, but he wouldn’t step away from his routine now.

“Did Ren leave you here like this?” he heard her ask, as he returned.

“Nothing he can do, is there?” Hux shook his head and leaned back. “And he really wanted to help your boy.” He coughed again and this time, when he wiped his mouth, the stain of blood upon his stark-white hands was obvious. “I guess he thinks it’s his fault… I don’t know.”

“How is it his fault?” Nataleeh asked with a scowl, as Finn stepped closer to lean over Hux.

“Look at me,” Finn said in a low, commanding voice he always adopted when dealing with a patient he didn’t particularly like. He had never seen a victim of the plague personally, but he’d read enough reports. Hux’s red eyes were the first indicator, the foul smell of his breath and the fact that he obeyed, the next. “How long have you been like this?” Finn asked. “The fever especially?”

Hux shrugged. “A day? Two?”

Finn nodded. “Alright, I need you to get onboard one of the ships that just landed here. The infirmary here can’t deal with this.”

Hux’s lips twisted into a smile. “No infirmary can, F-“ he stopped himself and shook his head. He’d stopped himself from calling Finn by his Stormtrooper signature. Why, Finn couldn’t say. Hux didn’t look at him anymore though. His eyes were focused on Nataleeh now and despite everything, his smile seemed genuine now. “Imagine where we could be if you’d married me instead.”

Nataleeh scoffed. “We wouldn’t be here, that’s for sure.”

 


	13. Ha'roon

 

 

The negotiations had only started the day before, but already it was all too apparent that they weren’t going anywhere within the next few days. The Free Federation had sent three representatives, two human men and one being belonging to a species called Man’vas, who had barely spoken one word during the seemingly endless first talks. Poe had merely sat there next to Kumran, keeping an eye on Bendar, as he had been asked to do, but he barely listened to what they were saying.

            As far as he could tell, both sides were willing to cooperate, but neither wanted to say it all too clearly. It was unbearable, and Poe was sure that if his mind had been engaged with anything but his constant worry about Mia, he would have been able to appreciate the delicate process of diplomacy a bit better. As it was, he merely had the energy to focus on the conversation. And Bendar too seemed to be preoccupied. He spoke when he was addressed, but he didn’t appear to be interested either, and during their short lunch breaks he didn’t even eat.

Not that Poe felt particularly hungry himself.

The last thing he had heard from Finn was when they had reached Askija on the day the Jedi had started spreading out and they had found Hux sick. The news that the plague had spread to Askija made Poe more than uneasy and he could see that Bendar was worried sick about both of his sons, one of them being on the hunt for Antilles with Ren.

Poe folded his hands on the table top to keep his fingers from tapping the wooden surface. His headaches hadn’t subsided yet and that was no surprise at al.  He was no good at this. He was no diplomat and he sure as hell wasn’t helping anyone by trying to follow the talks. The Free Federation, as far as he could tell, had nothing to offer apart from ill-trained personnel and wanted everything the New Republic could spare. Not that that came as a surprise to anyone, but stretched Poe’s patience to breaking point.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, focusing on the fact that there was so little he could do about Mia… but little was better than nothing, wasn’t it? He caught the Man’va’s eye and the look of deepest concern on the other’s face made him frown. What the hell was going on here? The guy had been nothing but impassive since the meeting began.

“What?” Poe asked curtly, interrupting Gohu’s speech on why the Free Federation should not be forced under the jurisdiction of the New Republic. All eyes fell on Poe, but he ignored them, instead focusing is gaze on the Man’vas.

The furry alien shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his claws scratching the table top. “Nothing,” he growled in a deep voice. Poe hadn’t heard him speak yet either.

“No, it’s not nothing, you just looked at me like you wanted to say something. Out with it!”

“Mr Dameron…” Kumran said, her eyes flashing dangerously, but Poe ignored her.

“Ha’roon?” Gohu, an elderly man with short-clipped dark hair, looked at the Man’vas on his right. “What is it?”

“This man…” Ha’roon nodded at Poe, “he thought of the beings who possess this Power… they’re helping the New Republic.”

The Power… did he mean the Force? “Did you just read my thoughts?” Poe asked astounded, looking at the alien with new-found interest. Was he Force sensitive? He must be. And that was probably why the people of the Free Federation, who must be just as convinced that humans alone were valuable, like the First Order had been, was dragging along this Man’vas!

Ha’roon shrugged, his golden fur standing on end. “These Jedi have not been affected by the plague, have they?”

Poe bit his lip, then nodded, completely ignoring Kumran.

“Not as far as we know,” Kumran added.

“My master Cadmund and I were the only survivors of our village.”

Poe felt a chill run down his spine. He turned his head to look at Bendar, whose bloodshot eyes met his.

“Are you saying that Force-sensitives might not be affected by this plague?” Kumran asked, leaning forward, her eyes fixed on Gohu and Poe was relieved to see that she didn’t trust him as fully as Poe had thought.

Gohu shrugged. “Maybe, we don’t have any of them among us.”

“As far as you know,” Poe said through clenched teeth. They hadn’t known Finn was Force sensitive after all. He looked at Ha’roon again.

“So you’re saying the only ones who can take care of the sick are Force sensitive beings?” Bendar asked, his voice croaky. He hadn’t spoken in hours.

Ha’roon nodded. “Sounds like it.”

Poe sighed, rubbing is throbbing forehead. There weren’t nearly enough Force sensitive beings out there to help stop this epidemic, but he had to admit that he felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. If that was true, then Finn and Mia at least were safe from this plague.

“I suggest we leave the talks at that for today,” Kumran said curtly and Poe realized that she was aching to send a report.

He got up and nodded. “Fine by me,” he said, moving towards the door. Bendar was right behind him, but he didn’t turn around to talk to him until they were out in the corridor. Through the window looking into the room, he could see the representatives of the Free Federation shuffling their data cards and Kumran leaving through another door.

“What now?” Bendar said behind him.

Poe shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose.” He curled his hands into fists. “We’re not getting anywhere here…”

Bendar nodded briefly and followed his gaze to the Free Federation representatives. His lip curled into a disgusted grimace. “I am so sick of this.”

Poe took a deep breath, folding his arms across his chest. This too was something he couldn’t deal with right now. He didn’t want Bendar’s self-pity and neither did he feel like bonding with him over their children missing was a good idea. But he couldn’t talk to Finn right now and the thought of spending another hour without knowing anything about Mia’s whereabouts was killing him. “Can’t help you,” Poe said through clenched teeth and flinched when the door slid open.

Ha’roon took a few steps towards them and looked down at them with purple, unblinking eyes.

“You’re here to tell these people if we’re lying or not?” It wasn’t a real question. Bendar looked the Man’vas up and down and Poe could see that he was keeping his distance.

Ha’roon looked through the window, too, where the two men were just leaving through the other door. “After my entire village was wiped out there was nowhere for me and my master to go but to them.”

There was no sense of apprehension in his voice, but something else. Something Poe had heard several times before, when talking to victims of the First Order. Resignation. “You don’t have to do what they say, you know?” Poe said, feeling Bendar’s eye on him.

“I know, I don’t.” Ha’roon raised an eyebrow. He looked like he was too young for this sort of thing. Too young for the grief he must be feeling. And still he was sure of himself. And more independent than Poe would have thought possible. He nodded curtly.

“So, what do you want?”

Ha’roon’s eyes narrowed as he looked Bendar up and down. “I sense that something is wrong.”

Poe felt a shiver run down his spine. He shouldn’t be surprised at that, he thought. Not only had Ha’roon read his mind, Poe had also grown used to Finn’s abilities over the past few years. “Alright,” he said with a shrug. “But there’s nothing you can do, is there? Nobody seems to know how to find them. They just vanished.”

Bendar caught his gaze. The other man shook his head slightly. He didn’t trust Ha’roon, that much was clear. Fine, Poe didn’t trust him either but that didn’t mean they couldn’t gain anything from that situation.

“There was a presence near our village,” Ha’roon said quietly, so that Poe had to lean in to catch the words. “My master told me about it during our first training sessions. A presence of nothing. Things seemed to vanish around it.”

Bendar scowled and Poe could see that he was about to speak. He shook his head. Bendar obviously had less understanding of the Force than Poe, and that was saying something. But Bendar spoke up anyway. “They died?”

“No.” Ha’roon said quietly. “Not at first. They just…. he couldn’t perceive them anymore. He warned me to stay away, and I did. And then, one day, it just left.”

“When was that?” Bendar was standing more upright now, his pose now far more like the man Poe had first met.

Ha’roon thought for a moment. “About three years ago?”

Poe’s throat tightened. He nodded.

“Any idea where that thing went?” Bendar asked, his brow furrowed.

Ha’roon shook his head. “But I remember what it felt like to be near it.”

At that Poe caught Bendar’s eye again, and despite everything that had passed between them, despite the fact that Poe hated the other man’s guts, he knew what to do.

“Ha’roon, how would you feel about taking a trip with us?” he asked, looking up at the Man’vas again, who stared down at him. He must have expected Poe to say this. He must have counted on it. But still he seemed hesitant.

“Look,” Poe said, “do you feel like this is going anywhere?”

Ha’roon blinked, but didn’t look at either Poe or Bendar. Instead he kept staring through the window. His silence was all Poe needed.

“We’ll get you back here as soon as we’re done… if you want...”

Bendar stared at him, his nostrils flaring. He knew what this could mean for him, but he didn’t object. Running off could, and probably would, land him right back in prison. Not that he seemed particularly happy outside it, but what did he, Poe, care? If it were up to him, Bendar might just as well stay here, but he couldn’t exactly bring himself to tell Bendar to remain behind. Not when Bendar’s son was missing, too.

Poe nodded slightly.

Bendar rolled his eyes, but didn’t object.

“We’d have to go now.” Ha’roon turned away from the window and started walking along the corridor, immediately followed by Bendar.

Poe sighed heavily, hoping beyond hope they’d find painkillers on whichever ship they were going to commandeer for their self-appointed mission. He could fly, that was for sure, and he had flown under much worse conditions, but still. He needed a clear head when he went after Antilles in search for Mia and her friend with these two people.

He felt something hot trickle down his chin, and he wiped his face distractedly, as he made to follow Bendar and Ha’roon. Beebee-Ate came charging out of the niche, where he had been waiting for Poe. His alarmed squeal made Bendar and Ha’roon turn around, but Poe waved them off. “The droid’s old!” he called to them and threw Beebee-Ate an angry look, when the two others had started walking again.

“Shut up, or I swear I’ll leave you!” he hissed, hoping the blood on his sleeve wouldn’t be noticed by the other two.


	14. Lost in the Dark

 

 

Was it raining?

            The icy droplet on her forehead had made her flinch. She blinked and couldn’t make out anything but rough shapes. “Papa?” she whispered, before she realized that she was too old to call out for her Papa in the middle of the night. There was a thin streak of light streaming in on the ground. The door. Why was she locked in? Where was she?

            And why was she alone?

            Another droplet fell on her head and she jumped up, the sudden movement making her head spin. She had to lean against the wall, but as soon as her hand made contact with the wall, she flinched away. It was cold and moist. A slimy substance was sticking to her skin.

Clasping her other hand over her mouth, she took a step back. She couldn’t scream. She wouldn’t allow herself to scream. Deliberately, she wiped her hand on her trouser leg and closed her eyes. Calming breaths. That was what she needed. Long, deep, calming breaths. Slow her heartbeat, before she started worrying.

In.

Out.

In.

One. Two. Three.

Out.

Four. Five. Six.

In.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

Out.

Ten.

Okay.

Where was she?

She kept her eyes closed, reaching out with the Force, but there was nothing.

Nothing.

            There was no other word to describe it. Even less than a blank piece of paper. Less than static. Less than air. 

            She opened her eyes again. How had she come to be here? And where was _here_? She spun around on her heels, trying to make out how big this room was. The only way she’d be able to make that out would be to measure it. That meant something to do at least, but before she could move, a movement in the shadows among shadows, startled her. She heard a deep breath. A soft cough.

            “Morap?”

            “Yoann?” she breathed, approaching the shape tentatively.

            “Mia.” There was no relief in her friend’s voice. “I… I can’t.”

            Mia knelt down next to him, reaching out a hand. His tunic was clammy and ice cold. She had touched his arm. Slowly she moved her hand over his arm until she reached his shoulder. He sat up and his skin touched hers. He felt warm, but not hot.

            “Are you okay?” she asked and felt him shake his head beneath her hand.

            “I can’t sense… anything!”

            She swallowed hard, feeling almost relieved at this confession. “Me either,” she mumbled.

            “Where are we?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Yoann snorted. “Great,” he mumbled and silence fell between them as Mia tried to remember what had happened, but the last thing she recalled was being aboard the transport with Yoann and Nej. They had made the jump into hyperspace and next thing she knew, she was lying here in this dark room. But at least she wasn’t alone. At least Yoann was here.

            She blinked, fighting hard against the tears stinging her eyes. “Do you have anything on you?” she asked, letting go of him and reaching into her own pockets. It was still there! With a gasp, she pulled out the miniscule multi-toolkit Rey had given her a few weeks back.

            “What?” Yoann asked.

            “Let’s get out of here,” she said, getting up and pulling out one of the instruments.

            “We don’t even know what’s out there!”

            “Well, I’m not going to wait in here, if I can help it,” she hissed back, striding over to the strip of light, ignoring the one, soft object she stepped on. Behind her, she heard the rustling of clothes and an exhasperated sigh.

            “I don’t remember anything,” Yoann said. “Where’s Nej?”

            The thought had occurred to her, too and it almost made her stop in her tracks now. “We’ll find him,” she said with more confidence than she felt, as she let her hand slide over the door. It seemed to be made out of wood, rough and just as wet as the wall had been.

            “Can you get it open?”

            “Give me a second, will you?” She fumbled with the toolkit until she found the right one. Then she moved her hand over the door again, wishing more than anything to be able to sense what was waiting for her outside. She felt blind. Blinder than the darkness around her made it seem. It was as though she had suddenly lost one of her hands. Her fingernails got caught in the two narrow slits on either side of the door. With a nod, she moved her hands over the rough wood, until she found the hinges on the one side and what seemed like a lock on the other. But before she could even attempt to pick the lock, she felt the door give way under her pressure and she blinked at the light streaming inside now.

            “That was quick!” Yoann said admiringly.

            “It was open,” she muttered through the tears. Her eyes were burning and it took her a few moments to get used to the light.

            “Huh…” Yoann pushed past her, and now she could see how dirty his clothes were. There were stains of an undefinable dark-green substance were dry only in some places. His hair was tousled and she could see dirt in it, too. She didn’t even want to know what she must look like. When he turned to face her, she could see dark circles under his eyes and his lips were cracked.

            “Where do you want to go?” he asked tentatively and she took his hand. How would she know?

            “Let’s look for Nej,” she muttered, though she had no idea how to find him. His hand was warm in hers, as they walked side by side along a corridor, which seemed to be nothing but a tunnel hewn into a mountain. There weren’t any doors to their left or right, nothing but a seemingly endless corridor with wooden crates stacked some metres in front of them.

            “What is this place?” Mia squeezed Yoann’s hand.

He looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Some abandoned mining colony?” He shrugged. “Or partly abandoned, I don’t know…”

“What makes you say mining colony?” she asked with a frown.

“Rocks?” Yoann’s lips formed that cocky grin now and Mia couldn’t help but laugh. He managed to do that often. Make her laugh, when she expected it least. It drove away the fear. The terrible thoughts about her fathers. What if she never saw them again? Were they looking for her? Did they even know what had happened.

She tried reaching out to her dad instinctively, but when she felt the darkness again, she took a deep breath and threw her arms around Yoann. He was solid. He was here. They were here together.

He held her close, his breath stroking against her cheek. “Let’s keep going,” he said after a while, is free hand stroking her hair. “We can’t stay here. I think.”

Mia nodded and took a step back. “Alright,” she muttered and let him pull her further along the corridor. The crates had blocked an archway on the right hand side, she saw as they reached it and it looked wider than this one. Like this was nothing but a service tunnel connecting several areas. She looked at Yoann, but he too must feel the light, cool breeze streaming in through the wide, open area. The light was dimmed in there and only the first few metres were visible from where they were standing. The rock was rougher here and crates were stacked inside as well.

Yoann nodded. “Okay.” His voice had lost some of its determination, but he walked forwards nonetheless, pulling Mia along with him. It wasn’t hard to follow his lead. On the contrary: it came natural to her, just like he relied on her, trusted her, in almost every aspect of their lives. And with this routine, came confidence.

They were in a place neither of them had ever been to.

They were lost and had no idea where they would end up if they followed this passage with its uneven ground and small rocks strewn over the floor.

It was hard to see ahead, and she felt blind as she never had before in her life. Something in her chest contracted painfully. If she couldn’t get out, if she couldn’t feel anything apart from Yoann’s hand in hers, then how was she to find her parents again. A light squeeze eased the pain somewhat. Yoann must feel the same way.

“We can do this,” he whispered. His words echoed in the emptiness around them and Mia hurried to catch up, until their arms touched. He was right. Of course he was.

“Of course we can,” she said, her voice raised, as if to challenge the darkness. She wouldn’t be intimidated by it. She wouldn’t!

And then there was a soft glimmer ahead. Nothing but a white light illuminating the rocky surface of the walls. The passage had grown narrower. She hadn’t even been able to sense that. Why hadn’t they run into a wall yet? How come they hadn’t fallen?

She clutched Yoann’s hand more tightly and moved towards the light.

A crystal was sitting there, small, but somehow powerful enough to brighten this small, confined space. On the left there was another passage leading upwards. Mia looked up at Yoann, whose eyes were fixed on the crystal.

“Is that a kyber?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Mia nodded. “Looks like it.”

“What do you think?”

The answer was simple enough. She’d seen kyber crystals before. Padawan brought them in from caves on the opposite side of Askija, shortly before they were allowed to start building their own lightsabers. From the day she’d seen her dad ignite his for practice on that planet, she had been itching to have her own. Of course that had been the exact reason why she’d ended up on Askija in the first place. Her papa would never have allowed her to go otherwise. Somehow she had made that decision for him, when she’d sneaked her dads lightsaber into school.

Tentatively she stretched out her hand and knew that something was off. Her fingertip merely brushed the surface of the crystal, when she felt the ground beneath her tremble and shake. Yoann yelped, threw his arms around her, but it was too late. Already the ceiling was crumbling. A bright flash of light struck her almost blind, as the wall in front of her split open and the limp form of a body fell down in front of her. Icy, dead eyes stared at her, but before she could see who it was-

 

Was it raining?

The icy droplet on her forehead had made her flinch. She blinked and couldn’t make out anything but rough shapes. “Papa?” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> no, the story isn't over yet, even though I have to say that, yes, this fic is the last installment of the Unknown Limits series. I've been struggeling with writing (anything at the moment) but I am determined to keep going. However, I will be on holiday for the next three weeks and I don't know if I'll be posting anything during that time. I will be writing however (I always carry a notebook with me) and I promise I'll try to be back by the end of October. 
> 
> Until then... Thank you for reading and see you soon!


	15. Truth and Deception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Had a wonderful trip to visit amazing friends and I can't believe how quickly time has passed! And I wrote another chapter and even more for my original work. Can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter!

 

The connection was far from stable and Finn’s image kept flittering. Poe stared at his lips, trying to make out the words he couldn’t hear. He reached out to one of the buttons and turned it slightly. It did nothing to improve the image, but at last Finn’s voice broke through to him.

            “-you. Can you hear me?”

            “Yes.” Poe nodded at the frozen hologram and rubbed his burning eyes. “Sorry, it took a while. There’s some massive distortion.”

            “Where the kriff are you?”

            “I can’t say exactly,” Poe said, already feeling foolish. He should be in control of this. He needed to be, especially since the only one onboard here he could completely rely on was the little orange astromech. “Somewhere close to the Unknown Regions.” They hadn’t dared stop once they had managed to sneak onto the next best shuttle and rush off into hyperspace.

            “Poe?”

            “Yeah.”

            “What’s going on? Weren’t you supposed to be out of contact with everyone until this thing is over?” The irritation in Finn’s voice was so obvious, it made Poe’s hair stand on end. He knew. Of course he knew.

            Poe took a deep breath and dived into an explanation. He told Finn about what Ha’roon had said. About how he and Beebee-Ate were trying to figure out the course they should take next, because, if Poe was honest, he felt completely lost and he hated that feeling.

            Finn sighed. “So you’re basically just following that guy’s gut feeling? On a hunch? You actually helped a former First Order officer on parole to get away from the Republic?”

            His head was aching again. It had become worse these last couple of hours and his nose looked read, the skin cracked in some places. He wouldn’t be able to hide his condition for much longer. “Well…” Poe muttered. “Wouldn’t be the first time I helped a First Order soldier to get away.” He hated himself for saying this the instant the words left his mouth and Finn didn’t say anything for a long while. The comparison was completely out of line. He knew it. “Sorry… just… headache.”

            “Are you okay?”

            “Yes.” He wasn’t. But Finn didn’t need to know. There was nothing Finn could do anyway. So far no one had been able to come up with a cure. The only thing he could focus on was to get Mia back.

            “Poe…”

            “I’m okay. Listen, I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I know where we’re headed, okay?” He had do close his eyes, hoping this would put a damper on the pressure building up behind them. It didn’t.

            “So, it’s supposed to be somewhere where there’s no Force? How is that even possible?”

            “How would I know? Why don’t you ask Skywalker? Or Rey?”

            “I’ll think about it. Listen, give me your coordinates. Let’s meet up and talk things over.”

            “Have they heard from Morap?”

            Poe whirled around, not at all surprised to see Bendar standing in the doorway, brow furrowed, and arms crossed over his chest. The very same look he had worn ever since the negotiations had started.

            “Not as far as I know…” Poe muttered, then looked up at the holo again, even though Finn couldn’t see him. “Have you?” He rubbed his forehead. He needed to lie down if he wanted to survive these next couple of days. And he needed to. He had to! For Mia!

            “No.” Finn sounded stern. Almost angry. “They’re on the Falcon and Nataleeh tried reaching them, but we suppose they were in hyperspace whenever we tried reaching them.”

            Poe looked up at Bendar, who frowned even more at this. “Where is she?” Bendar asked curtly.

            “She’s asleep, Bendar. And I don’t appreciate that tone of voice.”

            Already Poe could feel the tension rising again and he didn’t need that right now. They were on the same team. For the first time ever, they were all facing the same problems. “I’ll send you the coordinates as soon as I get them from Bee, okay?”

            Finn’s grunt was unmistakeable.

            Poe nodded. “Talk to you later.” He switched off the comm without a word of goodbye. He didn’t need to show Bendar how much he missed his husband already. “I take it our new friend hasn’t managed to locate the place yet?”

            The look on Bendar’s face was confirmation about his suspicions. It was a good thing that Finn hadn’t been able to see him. “No.” Bendar shrugged, not giving a comment on Poe’s condition. “And to be perfectly honest, I don’t have high hopes.”

            “That’s because you have no idea of what these Force users can do.” Poe managed a grin, even if he felt neither particularly cheery or hopeful himself. He needed to lie down. Just for a moment. Just for a while. To get rid of this headache.

            “I’ll try to get in contact with Morap,” Bendar said. “Your droid knows how to contact the _Falcon_ I believe?”

            Poe nodded. Getting up from his chair he found that he was swaying, ever so slightly, but when Bendar reached out to steady him, he pushed the hand away. “I’m okay,” he lied again and Bendar didn’t press him any further. One deep breath. Just one. Poe closed his eyes. Then everything went black.

 

Breathing was hard. Nearly impossible.

            He couldn’t see.

            Couldn’t move.

            And yet he felt a presence in this nothingness.

            A soft light, a glow. Something warm. Familiar. Soothing.

            In this endless whirl of darkness, there was a familiar presence, which couldn’t be quite drowned out by this soundless noise crashing in around him. Yoann… he was somewhere out there. He had to be. Even if he couldn’t find him… not yet.

            The Askija was back. Nudging him ever so slightly, its emerald eyes glinting in the dying sunlight. _What are you?_ It didn’t answer. Of course it didn’t. It never had. Not in words. Instead, it nudged him again, its snout pushing softly against his side. And then he found it again. That warmth. No… this was different.

            Morap opened his eyes. His heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to get his bearings, to recall where he was. The smell of old machinery was heavy in his nose. The soft, blinking lights were another indicator. The _Falcon._ And Ben was nearby. Morap knew that he must be, even though he couldn’t feel his presence anymore. In fact, there was very little he could sense anymore. His surroundings, which he had learned to explore in so many tedious hours on Askija, seemed to have disappeared. He got to his feet. Had they reached the place yet? Had Ben managed to find the way to that place Meelan had described? Morap was anxious to talk to that being his father and Dameron had picked up. Could this lead actually take them to Yoann and Mia?

            Morap cringed as he remembered Nej. He moved towards the door as the light above flickered to life and he pushed it open. Nej Antilles had been his teacher for such a long time… yes, the man had always been rather quiet, but even though they had never become as close as Morap had thought Padawan and teacher had been in the days of the Old Republic, they had gotten along, even managed a few crises on behalf of the New Republic together. And now this had happened.

            When he stepped out into the narrow, curved corridor, he could sense Ben’s presence again. Somehow talking to Ben had always come easier to him. Nej had always seemed unapproachable… not that Ben was always there, ready to chat, but Morap had always found it easier to trust this other man, who was somehow closer to him. Not because they were of one mind, but because Ben, too, was an outsider. Because Nej had always seen him as the son of a First Order officer, and despite his best efforts, Morap saw himself as one. How could he and Nej form a bond? How was he supposed to know Nej well enough to anticipate this lapse in judgement? 

            “Ben?” Morap called out, moving slowly towards the main area, where he knew Ben must be. His hand moved to his hip, where he was carrying the lightsaber. Was this the key? The kyber crystal? It seemed unlikely. They were merely part of a Jedi’s lightsaber. Yes, the Force had guided him towards this one years ago, and he had accepted it, but he couldn’t deny the connection he felt towards it.

            Ben was sitting at the console on the far right of the area, looking at star maps, chin resting on his fist. They hadn’t talked much and Morap knew that Ben’s thoughts were continuously returning back to Askija. It had been obvious that he and Hux hadn’t always seen eye to eye these last couple of years. The argument Morap had accidentally overheard all these years ago can’t have been the only one, but Morap got the sense that something was even more wrong between them now.

            “Found anything?” Ben asked distractedly, as Morap moved closer.

            “I don’t know,” Morap muttered. They had taken turns meditating. While one was researching the database, the other would try to find out where Antilles might have gone, where he might have vanished. So far, without luck.

Ben turned to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot and Morap saw immediately that the other hadn’t slept at all. They hadn’t talked about Ben’s past either. About how he had ended up with the First Order and why he had returned to the Resistance with Hux in tow. But Ben didn’t need to tell him either. He knew. He had seen it. The moment of his surrender. He had felt the despair. The fear. The relief.

“Have you heard from Askija?” Morap asked tentatively and Ben shrugged.

“I have,” he answered. “Hux is worse.”

Morap’s breath caught in his chest. Hux was sick? When had that happened? And why had Ben been so eager to run off with him, if he was? “Why…”

“A feeling,” Ben muttered, brushing his hand through his hair. His other hand was balled into a tight fist, his lips forming a thin line, as he visibly tried to control his breathing. His anger. “I had thought this was all over… but it’s not… and I can’t…  I can’t let this go on.”

“What do you mean?” Morap swallowed hard and crossed his arms over his chest to stop them from fidgeting.

Ben let out a grunt and got up. He started to pace, each stride seemingly longer than the one before. “You know what I was,” he hissed. “What I did?” He bit his lip, nostrils quivering. “I have a feeling all of this is happening because of me.”

Morap frowned at this. How could anything be about Ben at this point? Ben had been more or less in hiding for the last decade at least. “What do you mean?” he asked tentatively.

Ben paused, standing stock still in front of the metal wall, his shoulders trembling, face contorted with rage. Morap had never seen him like this. Had never felt this wave of rage from him. He got up, raising his hands. What was going on here. What-

Ben raised his fist, hit the wall with all his might and Morap was thrown back against the table. Ben’s breath was coming in gasps now, his aura in the Force stronger than Morap had ever felt it. Was this a glimpse into who Kylo Ren had been? Who he was to this day? Ben fell silent, his hand falling limply to his side. Even from here he was standing, Morap could see the red on the other’s knuckles.

“I mean,” Ben said, “that this _nothing_ feels familiar… like the _something_ lurking behind Snoke.”

Morap swallowed hard and took a small step towards Ben. He had heard of Snoke, the Supreme Leader of the First Order before. Not an Emperor, not a military chief, but someone else. Someone unreachable. The one who had lured Ren to the Dark Side. “You think it’s Snoke?”

Ben scoffed. “Didn’t you listen,” he hissed whirling around, his eyes dark and his teeth bared. “There’s more to it… Snoke is gone! I saw to that! Or… or Rey did… Rey and Finn.” He fell silent again. He stood still again, rubbing his forehead. “Hux is sick because of me.  I put him in danger before and I did it again now. And not just him…” He took a deep breath. “What… what did you want to say?”

What- Morap’s thoughts were racing as he was trying to grasp what Ben was telling him here. Snoke… Ren… Rey and Finn. What did they have to do with all of this? Was this emptiness, this weird nothing all the answer they needed? But was it an answer at all?

He cleared his throat, then grabbed the lightsaber from his belt to hold it out to Ben. “I think this is the answer,” Morap said with more determination than he actually felt. And then things started falling into place. “The crystal was all I could actually sense, when I was concentrating on this weird other thing.” The dark, all deafening emptiness. “There’s a connection there. The Jedi aren’t affected, right? Force sensitives aren’t affected! And I could feel this crystal!” It made sense. The despair he had felt in his vision was quite similar to the one he had felt in this emptiness. And hadn’t Kylo Ren owned a synthetic kyber crystal? Hadn’t all Sith primarily used the synthetic ones? The red ones? What if those crystals had to be synthetic, so they wouldn’t oppose the emptiness of the Dark Side?! “If we find a blind spot out there-“

“There are too many blind spots out there now,” Ben grumbled, eyes fixed on Morap’s lightsaber. “Everywhere where people have fallen sick.”

 _Like on that ship my dad is on,_ Morap thought uncomfortably. He hadn’t been able to sense too much of his father these last couple of hours. Things were becoming worse. “Maybe, if we find one of these blind spots, and then a place where there are a lot of kyber crystals…” he trailed off. If there was a kyber crystal near Mia and Yoann… maybe even Nej’s lightsaber! He swallowed hard and looked back up at Ben.

The other man was still scowling, obviously thinking hard and still breathing heavily. With a grunt, he sat back down on his chair and started searching the database. Morap could see him searching the edges of the Unknown Regions now. Was he actually onto something? It was very likely he was just reaching for straws, but there had been so few clues, so few places they could actually search…

“What was Snoke like?” Morap asked in a hushed voice, but Ben didn’t answer. Not straight away.

“He taught me a lot,” Ben said after a while without looking at Morap. “Who I could be.” He was silent for another moment and then let his hands fall into his lap. “But the price was too high after all.”

Morap could see that Ben’s search had turned up one, and only one planet. The designation didn’t mean anything to Morap. “Where the hell is Birken Six?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	16. Crash

 

He was deaf.

            That was it.

            That was the feeling.

            Utter deafness and they were headed straight towards it. They weren’t even half a day’s journey away from Askija now. This was the planet where the Damerons had been captured by his father’s men. He had looked it up on their way. The planet where Mia was born. And she was here now. She and Yoann were down there on that empty planet.

            It looked perfectly ordinary. Red and dusty and almost uninhabitable. A bit too barren for his taste as well, but it didn’t look too conspicuous. Morap sat down in the navigator’s seat. It was far too big for him. The Wookie who had once occupied it, still had his place aboard the _Falcon._ Morap turned to look at Ben, whose red-rimmed eyes were fixed on the viewscreen. He still hadn’t slept, Morap realized. Not that he himself had managed to find sleep, but Ben looked even more distressed. Tired. Exhausted.

            Morap closed his eyes. The feeling had become more intense. The feeling of nothing. How else to describe it? The more he thought about it, the fewer words he found for it. He swallowed.

            “Was that what it was like to be near Snoke?”

            Ben grunted and Morap turned to look at him again. Ben’s face was impassive, his hands were clutching the controls with all their might. “In a way,” he whispered. “But also different. It was more of a relief than this… Comforting almost. Drowning out all the chaos…”

            _Maybe because you were near him voluntarily,_ Morap thought with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was disconcerting not to be able to sense Ben’s mood anymore. “Is this him?”

            The other shrugged. “No.” There was a determination in Ben’s voice, which seemed to vibrate through the entire cockpit. “Snoke is dead. This is… more. Different. Darker.” He took a deep breath. “Shall we?”

            They were supposed to wait for the others, but Morap couldn’t shake the feeling that they were wasting time. It was very likely this thing, this entity, had sensed their presence already, even as it was hiding behind this veil… And Yoann was down there. His brother needed him. Needed him to come and get him. When he closed his eyes and concentrated, concentrated very hard and blocked everything else, when he allowed himself to be drowned out by the emptiness, he could almost sense the clear white of his brother. Yoann’s still white kyber and Mia’s light purple one. They were so close… so incredibly close… and who could say when the others would get here?

            He nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly, before he sat up and straightened his shoulders.

 

As she looked up at the flickering light above her, she caught herself wondering why she remembered it. This pattern. This symphony the flickering glare assumed. Why the sound of their feet on the concrete floor was familiar to her.

            Yoann’s hand around hers tightened its grip. His next words were new. Something different from within this haze of terror. “Do you-“

            She put her free hand on his lips. He didn’t need to say it. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t make another sound. She pushed him against the wall, eyes fixed on his. She shook her head. Something was different… or was it? How could something she had never seen, never gone through, be different?

            Yoann pushed her away. “What?” he hissed in a whisper, as Mia grabbed his hand again.

She shook her head and then something in his eyes shifted. Had he sensed it, too? Had he sensed something?!

 Mia gasped, only to be enveloped by the big nothing again. Were they breaking through? But through what?

Yoann’s hand clasped even more tightly around hers. His eyes were determined. “We have to keep going, he whispered, and she nodded. Where they were going, neither of them knew, but staying put wasn’t an option. Together they walked on. Through an opening to their right. Along another tunnel. A mine.

There was a soft, purple glow in the dark. It was pulsing and she stared at it, eyes burning. It was drawing her closer. Pulling her. And she knew, she just knew, that it wasn’t sinister. That it could help! She walked towards it as if through a tunnel, ignoring all the other familiar things around her.

She reached out to touch it. She knew what it was. And she saw another one. A white one. Ready for Yoann. It had to be for him. It had to be his. She nodded at him and together they touched the crystals.

The bright light hit her like lightning. The white stinging her eyes, as she was thrown back, and she saw Nej, his face covered with blood, his eyes open; unseeing.

 

Was it raining?

            The icy droplet on her forehead had made her flinch. She blinked and couldn’t make out anything but rough shapes. “Papa?” she whispered in the dark.

            Her fingers closed around the object in her pocket. The crystal! The crystal she had found earlier. This was no rain! Her papa wasn’t here! “Yoann!” She whirled around, feeling for the body of her friend, who had to be close by. She didn’t know what was going on. Where she was. Where they were! But she didn’t let go of the crystal. Not for a single second! She found an arm and mere moments later, she heard Yoann groan.

            “Morap?”

            She shook her head. “No! No, it’s me! It’s Mia!” She couldn’t help but laugh. Even in their despair, even in this all-consuming panic, she had to let it out. She knew that she had been here before. “Do you remember?” she whispered.

            “Yes,” he sounded breathless. But the smile was there. That cocky smile she had seen several times before.

            There was hope after all. They only had to find out where they were now and take care not to forget again.

            The kyber crystal in her hand glowed softly in the dark of their cell.

 

His mouth was dry. He was thirsty. That was the first thing he realized when he came to. The thirst. Nothing else.

            The beeping registered much later. The alarm… He huffed. What good was a ground proximity warning now?

            He blinked. A metal lever was right in front of him.

            And then it came back to him.

            The crash.

            The inexplicable loss of control over the ship and Ben’s surprise and inability to stop it from happening. Rushing through the clouds. Skidding to a halt on the rough ground as the entire ship was shaken and then he had blacked out.

            With a gasp, he sat up. He was alone, wasn’t he? Alone in the cockpit. His eyes fell on a bloodstain on the pilot’s console and his stomach clenched uncomfortably. Where was Ben?

            Morap got to his feet. Slowly. He didn’t quite trust his legs and his head was spinning. He closed his eyes again, kept them tightly shut and held on tight to the co-pilot’s chair.

            “Ben?” he murmured, feeling for the lightsaber at his hip. It was still there. He took a deep breath. This was wrong. Everything felt off. Dampened. The kyber, he reminded himself. The kyber crystal was the key. Ben had to be here. He had to! Where would he have gone?

            He shook his head, forcing himself to ignore the ignore the searing pain and to steady himself. It didn’t quite work. Even so, he moved forwards, keeping his eyes fixed on the corridor he had to walk along. One step at a time. That was the idea.

            And then, there he was. Ben. Holding two cups of water. Without a word, he handed one to Morap and emptied the other one. He looked shaken, but not hurt. That was something, Morap told himself.

            “How much damage?” he asked, finding that his voice sounded steady enough.

            Ben shrugged. “I’m no engineer.” He looked over his shoulder at the empty common area. “Not sure we’ll be able to fly her out of here any time soon.”

            Morap pulled a face and took a sip. The water was lukewarm. He shuddered and took another sip. “How long was I out?”

            Ben shrugged. “A few minutes longer than me, I don’t know. I tried contacting the Damerons, but they must be in hyperspace. Can’t reach them.” He bit his lip, looking around the ship once more and a shadow passed over his face. “I can’t fix this,” he muttered, as if to himself and then there was that anger again.

            Morap pushed past him, before Ben could unleash it again. “Let’s go,” he said. “Waiting is no use. We need to keep moving and find Yoann and Mia.” ´His head didn’t feel quite right. Every muscle in his body was aching and all he wanted to do was to lie down and sleep. Even the cold metal floor of the _Falcon_ seemed inviting enough at this moment. But now was no time for sleep. He had to find his brother!

            He didn’t need to look behind him to know that Ben was following him. _How strange_ , he thought. Ben Solo was the older one. The one who had studied the Force for so much longer. Who had so much more experience… and yet he had resigned himself to follow a Padawan… Morap stopped at the ramp before opening it. Taking a deep breath, he looked over his shoulder now. At Ben, whose face looked ashen. Whose lips were almost grey. The scar across his face stood out blood red against the pale skin. “We’re gonna do this,” he said with determination.

            He wished for a moment, he could ask Ben to stay behind. To fix the ship. Anything but face what was out there. What was awaiting them. But he couldn’t. Ben Solo couldn’t be left alone.

 

           


	17. One Step at a Time

 

Meelan stared down at the massive form of the alien convulsing on the floor. He took a step back to give the furry Man’vas some room as his limbs flailed about, hitting the wall and scratching the paint with his claws.

            Meelan couldn’t even say what it was he was feeling as he watched the bulky alien twitch and then lie still. He had collapsed. Just like this, mere minutes after they dropped out of hyperspace. With a frown, he counted to thirty, before he knelt down next to the alien, whose muzzle was damp with saliva. But he was breathing. That was something. And there didn’t seem to be any blood. The astromech whirred close, beeping a question at him. Shaking his head, Meelan tried to feel for a pulse, but he had no idea how to find it in this creature. He put his hand over his mouth and felt the warm breath hit his skin. Ha’roon’s breathing was steady.

            “He seems to be alright,” he muttered and looked up at Beebee-Ate. Why did he even talk to the thing? “Do you remember me at all?” he asked with a scowl and wasn’t surprised to hear the droid beep an affirmative. Of course. How typical for Dameron not to wipe his astromech’s memory…  and how weird that the droid had never told Dameron any of this! Or had he? How Meelan’s father had built it? How Morap had stolen the droid when he had run off?

He stood up again. The Man’vas was too heavy to lift and there was nothing he could do for him anyway. They had reached their destination, that was all he needed. At least he wasn’t dead, Meelan thought. He couldn’t deal with a dead body on top of everything else. He still looked down at the body. Ha’roon appeared to be unconscious, but not in mortal danger. Much unlike Dameron, who had collapsed hours ago and still hadn’t woken up. The blood on his face had been alarming, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Not that Meelan cared whether or not Dameron lived or died either personally. Not particularly, but he felt like he could need Dameron’s limited influence, if they ever got out of this mess… if they found their children.

His insides churned at the thought and as he looked out the viewport of the cockpit. Birken Six was right in front of them. The place he should never have added to his organization. Hadn’t Dameron and his husband turned up here, things would have been different. His organization wouldn’t have been taken apart. He would have stayed with his family, gotten to know his sons… his sons who didn’t even really know him.

He bit his lip as he slumped down in the pilot’s seat. He had no idea what was going on here, but he knew he had to fight. Fight for Yoann… and Morap. He saw the light blinking in the centre console. The light indicating that there was a message waiting for him. No… for them. For Dameron. He hit the button and when he saw Ren’s face, he felt his heart plummet. Why wasn’t Morap on the comm? Why hadn’t he sent the message?

“We crashed on the planet.”

The first words to come out of Ren’s mouth spoke of disaster. Meelan jumped to his feet, fists clenched as his heart began to race.

“I don’t know what happened, but we’re alright.”

Meelan closed his eyes. Morap was fine. Morap wasn’t hurt… but what about Yoann? What about the son he hadn’t heard from in weeks? His heart seemed to contract and the pain in his chest made it next to impossible to breathe. He was on his own, he realized… Dameron was sick. Ha’roon as well. The Stormtrooper and Nathalee weren’t here yet and there was no time to waste. A soft beeping behind him made him turn around. The droid had its sensors trained on him and its stare made Meelan shudder.

“You and my brother were a team then…” he muttered. The information he had extracted from Dameron all those years ago were ringing in his ears even now. His brother Morap had died in the service of the New Republic. The Order had killed him… back then it didn’t matter how Morap had died, only that it had been for the other side… that Morap was gone… He had still thought that maybe he might meet Morap again. Somewhere. Somehow. That he could drag him back. Yes, Morap had betrayed him, had ruined his prospects just as much as their father had, but he still missed him. He still missed his little brother. Because he had failed the little boy who didn’t fit in the world they were born into. And he wouldn’t fail his sons. He wouldn’t fail Yoann and Morap. They needed him.

The droid beeped again and Meelan took a step back, as it plugged into the console. _I can help you land._

The letters flashed across the display embedded in the console. Meelan wiped his eyes and nodded. “Okay then, little one,” he huffed as he sat down.

_But I need you to make sure that Master Poe is okay._

Meelan froze, hands hovering over the consoles. “I can’t help him,” he said quietly and looked down at the droid. Loyalty… could that be a character program for a droid? Loyalty and blackmail? If it could, then Morap must have installed it. He fought the grin which was trying to break his scowl. “The only thing I can try right now is to get to the kids and get them away from here.” He tried swallowing, but his mouth was dry. “You know Mia, right? You remember her? She’s your master’s daughter, correct?”

The droid paused for a moment, then beeped another affirmative.

“And you know what Dameron might have.”

_Yes._

Meelan pressed his lips together. He hated this. Hated that Dameron had left him in this mess. That Dameron had showed up and- he closed his eyes, forcing himself to think of Yoann now. Yoann and Morap. No one else mattered…

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the droid again. “I need you to send out a message to FN- to Finn and Nathalee. Tell them that we’re here and attempting to land-“

 _What do you mean by_ attempt _?_

Meelan scoffed. “I’m not trained to fly anything,” he said. “I may remember some of the theory, but-“

_My master is the best pilot in the galaxy. How do you think he got that reputation?_

He laughed despite himself. Yes, that droid sounded like Morap. Like the brother he had lost.

“Because I am.”

Meelan’s head snapped around. Dameron was leaning in the doorway, his face ashen and the skin underneath his nose raw, eyes bloodshot. How was he even up? But Meelan shouldn’t be surprised, he realized. Poe Dameron was tough as hell. He pushed that thought aside and got up, fighting the images which popped into his head at the sight of this man, who looked more like a corpse than he had back when it had been Meelan’s job to torture him. “Go lie down, Dameron,” he said in a low voice, but he wasn’t at all surprised to see that Dameron moved towards him instead.

The droid beeped incoherently, but Meelan didn’t turn to look at the display. Instead, he crossed his arms and shook his head. “You can’t help, Dameron. You’re sick.”

“Leave it!” Dameron hissed, his dark eyes flashing as he held up a trembling index finger. “Don’t you dare order me about!” There was another trickle of blood, making its way out of Dameron’s left nostril, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“You’re going to make this worse,” Meelan said, his hands clenched into fists. “And you know it.”

“Do I?” he pushed past Meelan and slumped down in the pilot’s chair. He blinked and wiped his eyes. “What’s wrong with Ha’roon?” His voice was weak, but at least he was talking, Meelan thought. When Dameron had collapsed, Meelan wouldn’t have thought it possible that Dameron would wake up at all.

“How would I know?” He didn’t sit down, but stared at Dameron, whose eyes were determinately fixed on the viewport ahead. “And you shouldn’t be flying! What’s going to happen, when we crash? Tell me that! Who is going to look for Yoann and Morap and your little girl?!”

The droid beeped again and this time Meelan looked at the screen.

_The man isn’t wrong._

“Just shut up,” Dameron hissed through gritted teeth. “Both of you.”

“You take control, droid,” Meelan said, before resigning himself to sit in the co-pilot’s chair. Ignoring Dameron’s gaze was easy.

“I will not let you dictate what I can and can’t do!”

“Will you stop being such a drama queen, Dameron!” His voice was louder than he intended. He stared at Dameron, eyes burning and heart hammering in his fist. “This isn’t about you playing the hero before you die, but about my children! Your kid as well, as far as I remember! So if you refuse to lie down and wait this out, at least shut up and let the droid land us on that forsaken rock!”

For a second, Meelan thought Dameron would simply refuse. Dameron didn’t even remotely look like himself anymore. There was a madness in his eyes that made Meelan’s skin erupt with goose bumps. But then Dameron let his hands fall in is lap, nostrils flaring. He wiped his nose with his sleeve, not seeming to care what was going on with him.

Meelan closed his eyes, trying to push away the wave of nausea, as the droid steered their ship into the atmosphere. At least Dameron wouldn’t try to interfere and ruin things for a few minutes…

 

The village wasn’t too far away. Maybe three parsecs. He had felt his stomach tighten, when he saw the crashed ship. The one he had seen in quite a few propaganda videos back in the day. It looked even more battered now, as it lay in the reddish dust, half buried in the sand. The _Millennium Falcon_ was not a fair sight to behold. Far from it. And his son had been on that ship.

            He barely looked at the Man’vas as he strode towards the ramp. Dameron staggered in his wake, but bent low over the being lying in the ground. “I feel bad letting him lie here,” Dameron said, but Meelan didn’t even acknowledge the comment. There was nothing he could do, he told himself again, as Beebee-Ate whistled a question at Dameron.

            “I don’t know, buddy.”

            Meelan turned around and saw Dameron coming to his feet with difficulty. His hands were shaking. How did the man expect to do anything in this state? But he didn’t object, merely watched as Dameron walked over to the small bunk where Meelan had put him after his breakdown. He came back with a blanket and a pillow, put the blanket over the Man’vas, who couldn’t even be completely covered by it.

            “For goodness sake,” Meelan muttered, as he saw Dameron attempt to kneel down next to the Man’vas again and Dameron flashed him a vicious look, when Meelan came back and pulled the pillow from his grasp. “If you feel like pampering him will get us anywhere at this point, fine. Just stop slowing me down.” He rammed the pillow underneath the Man’vas’s head and got up again. “Can we go now?”

            Dameron wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even looking at Meelan. His eyes were fixed on the viewport still visible through the open door to the cockpit. The settlement’s boundaries could be seen from here. It looked abandoned. No surprise, given that Meelan’s men had done their best to destroy it after their lack of sufficient deliveries. There were tears in Dameron’s eyes now. Why he should be crying now, was a mystery to Meelan and he didn’t much care. If Dameron was lost in thought, he might forget to come along, Meelan thought viciously. He turned around abruptly and headed for the ramp again.

            The droid was right at his heel, as the ramp was lowered at his command. The heat streaming in was bone dry, though the sun was already pretty low. He kept his eyes fixed on the _Falcon._ With a bit of luck Morap and Solo would have left them another message nearby. He pulled up his collar against the hot wind and the rough sand it carried and hurried to cross the distance between the two ships. His heart sank when he saw that the loading ramp hadn’t been pulled up and that red dust had gathered in the entrance. He hurried up, Beebee-Ate close at his heel. Where Dameron was, he couldn’t tell, and he didn’t care. If anything had happened to Morap!

            He stumbled over a rock, crashing to the ground with a thud. He tasted blood and scrambled to his feet as the astromech rushed past him. The blood in his mouth was nothing. The scrape on his chin didn’t matter. There was a hand on his shoulder. A wheezing breath right behind him. He shook off the hand.

            “Could be a trap,” Dameron whispered, but he must know that it didn’t matter now either way. If it was a trap, their possible attackers had already seen them.

            “Don’t care,” he said and moved forward. The sand made the ramp harder to walk on, but that hardly mattered now. There was a body. Jedi robes. Meelan gasped, when he saw his son lying there, his skin white as a sheet and his lips cracked. He knelt down next to Morap, feeling for a pulse. He closed his burning eyes in relief when he felt it. Morap was alive. Unconscious, but alive.

            “I don’t think they’re hurt,” Dameron said and he turned to look at him. There was Solo. Meelan hadn’t even seen him. His throat horribly tight as he looked down at the unmoving face of his boy. His son, who loved to laugh…

            He pulled the head, which seemed to be way too heavy for such a small part of the body, into his lap and wiped the hair off his forehead, trying very hard not to break out into tears. What in the name of every living creature was going on here? What had happened here.

            “Morap…” he whispered, stroking his son’s cheek and fighting the tears burning in his nose. “Morap, wake up…”

 

 


	18. Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of gore at the end! Don't read the last paragraph if you want to avoid it ;)

 

To see the unmoving face of his son, so close and yet unreachable, made him feel numb. It was as though he’d lost him already and the thought made his every limb feel like ice. He knelt over him, staring into that familiar face and the sheer multitude of images flooding his mind, made him choke. Morap as a baby in his mother’s arms. Morap, when he was older, clutching his shirt. Morap laughing. Crying. All these times they had spent together before everything had gone to hell.

            He raised a trembling hand to touch Morap’s cheek. They hadn’t talked in weeks, maybe even months. Drifting apart had been so easy at first, and then there they were… separated by the Republic. By what Morap thought of him. By things Morap couldn’t even begin to understand. He could feel the stubble beneath his fingertips and his heart contracted painfully.

            “There’s no blood though.”

            Meelan’s head snapped around. Dameron was leaning against the wall, eyes trained on Solo. He was breathing heavily again, and it was all too obvious that the short walk had exhausted him. “So?”

            “So, they don’t have it.” Dameron closed his eyes and slipped down the wall until he was sitting, shaking hands on his knees.

            With narrowed eyes, Meelan looked down at his son again. Dameron was right, he realized, and a heavy weight seemed to have been lifted from his weary shoulders. No trace of blood. “Just unconscious, then,” he muttered, pushing away the thought that an unknown cause of this collapse was probably even more frightening.

            “Morap,” he said again, forcing his voice to be softer now. And he felt like his younger self now, as he bent low over his son, ignoring the pain in his knee. Every little sign of age he felt seemed to be mirrored in his son. How could he have let this happen!? How could he have allowed for his sons to be taken away from him. For them to grow apart? Hadn’t he promised himself that he would be closer to his family, after the destruction of the Order? And now, what had he become?

            Meelan took a shaky breath as he allowed a single tear to fall. He was still the same man he had been when he had been ordered to interrogate Dameron. He was still working for the Order. Order first… not his family. Not his boys. Not his wife… he had risked it all over again when he decided to cooperate with the new incarnation of the Order. And for what? The Order couldn’t be this important. He’d rather have chaos and his children alive and by his side than this.

            The realization crashed over him like a storm surge, drowning out everything else. He was losing his sons and he had passed off every single opportunity to be closer to his eldest for years. Because silence was preferable. Because saying nothing was easier than fighting. And here he was now. On the edge of nothing.

            A movement made him flinch. Morap’s eyelids were fluttering. His chest rose higher than before. Once…twice. His hand twitched.

            “Morap!” Meelan whispered, brushing the tears away and grabbing his son’s icy hand. the fingers were moving. A soft groan fought its way out of between Morap’s greyish, cracked lips. “Can you hear me, boy?”

            Morap huffed. It sounded indignant and amused at the same time.

            “Morap?” he hated how panicked his voice sounded, but he clutched Morap’s hand to his chest, not caring that Dameron was watching him. Nothing mattered anymore.

            A croak was the only answer he got.

            “Get some water into him,” the slurred voice behind him said. Hesitantly, Meelan looked around. Dameron was still leaning against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. He still looked pale, but he was awake, even though his eyes seemed to be even redder now. But he was looking at him. He nodded once.

            “I think I know how I look. Go, get him some water, Bendar.”

            Meelan scrambled to his feet without another word and he rushed along the bent corridor, hurrying to find a tap. It wasn’t hard to find. He almost spilled the water as he carried the two cups back to where Morap and Dameron were.

            “Great rescue mission, huh?” he heard Dameron say. At least the man still had his moxie. Not that Dameron would be any help on the task at hand, but for now it didn’t look as if Dameron would die under his watch. For now…

            “You should know,” Meelan said quietly as he put the cup on the floor next to Dameron and knelt down next to his son. Solo still hadn’t moved, but a quick look assured Meelan that the other Force-user was still breathing. “You’ve been on more than I have.”

            “Less than I would’ve liked to be honest.”

            Meelan rolled his eyes and looked down at Morap. Their eyes met, and he could see that Morap was thinking the same thing. Dameron’s heroism was a bit much to take. Not that Morap was too different from Dameron, rushing out here like crazy to save his brother.

            _And what does that say about you?_ The little voice inside his head wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. He’d heard it more than he would have liked these last couple of years, but the more time passed, the less sure he was if that voice sounded more like his brother or his wife.

            Morap was trying to sit up now, his face screwed up in pain. He reached up to touch his head. “What happened?” he croaked and allowed his father to prop him up against the wall opposite Dameron.

            “I thought you could tell me.” He couldn’t help but scowl as he touched Morap’s forehead now. It felt normal. He picked up the other cup and held it out to him. “Can you hold this, or do you need help?

            Morap more or less ripping the cup from his hand was answer enough.

            “Were you attacked?”

            Morap shook his head. “No,” he said. “The last thing I remember is…” he screwed up his face again and let out a long breath. “Ben and I were going to leave the ship to take a look around and… that’s it.”

            Meelan frowned as his son met his eyes again. He was telling the truth, that much was certain, but there was something really fishy going on here and he couldn’t even begin to put his finger on it. “Drink,” he urged quietly.

            Morap obeyed reluctantly and his gaze drifted towards Solo. “Ben” Morap had called him with a tone of utter certainty. They were quite used to one another by the looks of it, and the mere thought gave Meelan a pang that was nothing short of guilt and jealousy. He had suppressed these feelings for so long that being hit by them now was like being stomped on by a rabid bantha.

            “Are you alright, though?”

            Morap nodded, even if he didn’t look like it. “I’m okay, I think. Just a bit of a headache.”

            _You and me both._ “Listen,” Meelan said. “I need you to stay here. Make sure everything is ready for a quick escape.” In fact, he would much rather have trusted this to Dameron, but the pilot didn’t seem in a good state to fly.

            “Not a chance,” Morap said, shaking his head. And that was his mother talking.

            He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m not going to argue about this.”

            Morap returned his gaze with the same determination. The same fire in his eyes. The mouth thin and jaw set. “Good!”

Meelan didn’t have the energy to engage in an argument and he couldn’t watch out for two sick people while trying to find two children. He closed his eyes and got up. How he wished he had handcuffs on him. “Don’t make me lock you up,” he sighed, ignoring the defiance all to obvious in Morap’s eyes. This was all too much.

But instead of giving in, Morap made to get up. He reached for the hilt of the cylindrical object at his belt, but before he could reach it, Meelan had bent low over him and snatched the lightsaber from him. That he was quicker at his son was alarming enough. With a grunt, Morap fell back against the wall. Yes, he was looking better than before, but he’d be damned, if he let his other son get trapped here as well. “Morap.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with your old man.” Dameron hadn’t spoken in what seemed like forever, but the rustle of clothes behind him, told Meelan that he had gotten to his feet. “You should stay here.”

“I’m no child!”

“Then stop acting like one!” Meelan said, fixating his son with a single stare. It didn’t have the effect he’d hoped for. Morap’s gaze turned icy. “You can barely stand, let alone walk.”

“The guy who brought us here,” Dameron interjected, before Morap could speak up again, “just collapsed. He’s Force-sensitive from what I gathered. We come here and you two unconscious. What does that tell you?”

Meelan looked at Dameron again. He was standing upright now and though his hands were still shaking, he wasn’t leaning against the wall. Putting on a brave face again, then.

Morap huffed. “Fine. I’ll wait for an hour, but if I haven’t heard from you by then, I’m coming after you.”

“N-“

“Fair enough,” Dameron said, interrupting Meelan. He touched Meelan’s shoulder, starting to pull him towards the ramp. With a jerk, Meelan pulled free.

“This is none of your business!”

“Yes, it is,” Poe hissed. “Because you’re wasting time!” His eyes were wide, his pupil dilated so they looked black. “Let’s go!” There was another trickle of blood, but he didn’t seem to notice. He turned around and started walking.

“He’s losing his mind,” Meelan muttered. His mouth was so dry, he felt his tongue sticking to the roof of it. Again, he looked down at his son, who didn’t even meet his gaze. He reached into his chest pocket and took out the comm he’d grabbed before leaving the transport. “One hour,” he said quietly. “See if you can wake Ren.”

The droid beeped loudly, the sound ringing shrilly in Meelan’s ears.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath as the droid whirred past him. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly and dropped the comm in Morap’s lap. “I-“ he stopped, unable to keep talking. Now was his chance. His chance to apologize for all the things he should have apologized for a long time ago. But he couldn’t. Not a single syllable crossed his lips. Not even, when Morap looked up at him with those eyes, which were so much like his uncle’s. Meelan’s heart contracted painfully. “I’ll find him.”

The corner’s of Morap’s mouth twitched. He didn’t pull back, when Meelan ruffled his hair. People did that, right?

“You better,” Morap muttered.

 

Watching the two men vanish in the endless vastness of Birken Six was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. Staying still, not doing anything, not taking action took every ounce of self-control he had, even though he knew very well that Mia’s father might very well be right. The very absence of the Force here suggested that something was going on here that was completely out of his control. And moving was hard. So incredibly hard. His muscles ached just thinking about it.

            He lifted the cup to his lips again. The wind streaming in through the opening of he ramp was hot and dry, though he could see that there were clouds gathering in the sky. Dameron and his father had been lost to his sight a few minutes ago behind one of the countless red dunes. It was disconcerting not being able to feel their, or even Ben’s presence. They were lost from sight and lost to the universe, it seemed.

            Morap reached out a hand to touch Ben’s wrist. The pulse was steady, but weak. Something was keeping him down. Something… this thing that Ben had suspected to be acting here…

            He closed his eyes. He should be moving. He should be out there. There was nothing he could do from here, but he couldn’t very well walk with his father and Dameron, when they so clearly didn’t want his company. And so he sat and stared out into the darkening sky. At the ship his father and Dameron had flown here.

            His father had broken parole. He’d go back to prison for this, surely. Everything would go back to the way it had been, when Morap had started at the Jedi Academy. And he couldn’t even say he was glad about it. No, his father wasn’t an evil or bad person per se. He had made bad choices and those choices bound him to make bad choices time and time again, because losing face was the one thing he wanted to avoid. He thought he needed stability. Stability only the Order could provide, even however the Order was long gone.

            Morap scoffed. He should have tried to talk to his father sooner, he thought. But now it might all be too late. But at least his father had pulled through now. He was looking for Yoann. With the one person he must hate most in the entire galaxy.

            Forty-five minutes passed with nothing for him to do but brood over his father. Over Yoann. Where he might be. How terrified his little brother surely was. He closed his eyes, thinking again of the kyber, hoping he’d find it but there was this darkness again… darkness… lost… soft rain … and there it was. He could sense it. The light green shimmering in the black of nothing. He blinked as the comm beeped once. He pressed the button, answering it.

            “Yes!”

            “Nothing yet. Stay where you are.”

            Morap shut the comm off, before his father could think of another order to give. It was time to move.

 

Using his eyes was no big help in this seemingly endless wasteland. The eyes were easily deceived. That much he had learned early on at Skywalker’s school. But what else could he rely on, as he slowly made his way over the reddish-brown dunes in the crimson dusk.

            The sun was burning, his legs were aching, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had made a terrible mistake leaving the ship and Ben behind. He should at least have tried to wake the Man’vas. But one look into the other ship had told him, that this Ha’roon guy was just as unconscious as Ben was. Breathing, but unreachable.

            What could he trust then? The Force was being manipulated. He was deaf to it. His eyes were unreliable, his body still shaken. His mind? He wasn’t sure he could even trust his thoughts. Thinking about why he might be awake when Ben and Ha’roon were passed out, was beyond him. And how could he trust himself, when he had practically run headlong into this barren landscape without a map, weapon or plan.

            He took a deep breath. He was going to die here, he thought desperately, fear gnawing at his insides like a ravenous animal. What a great help he was to Yoann. What a useless brother he was! And his father would lose not only one child, but both… if his father lived through this at all.

            Morap wiped his eyes, shaking his head. This wasn’t like him. He wasn’t whiny. What had he forgotten?

            He looked down as his foot got caught on something. He looked down, shaking his dust-caked boot free off the thorny scrub, which seemed to cover every bit of surface around here. Every bit of surface that wasn’t made nearly impossible to climb by man high rocks. Had he had the use of the Force, he could have just jumped up them, but as it was, he barely had the strength to climb the hill.

            The task he had set himself was proving impossible. Yoann would just-

            _No!_

            Morap stood still, clenching his hands into fists. _No, stop thinking like this! You had a plan. Remember that plan._

            What plan though? What was he looking for apart from Yoann? It had slipped his mind. He’d had an indication… one tiny… he bit his lip, thinking hard. Concentrating. And then he sensed it again and it took him a moment to realize that it was three things he remembered. Three… One was moving, relatively far away from him… he couldn’t make out the distance, but the familiarity he felt towards it was unique… his kyber. It was moving further and further away, while the other… the other two stayed put.  And he knew what it was! His heart leapt, as he opened his eyes.

            _Use both_ , that voice told him again. Both… yes… his eyes and his senses. That one last connection to the Force he still had left.

            And so, he started moving. Slowly at first, but with every step he took, he felt the strength returning to his limbs. He kept walking, without his feet getting caught up in the scrub again. It was as though the Force was leading him again. Leading him, pulling him towards one of the larder rock formations. He only barely registered the remnants of the old road, when he realized that there was an entrance there. A wide entrance, the metal doors broke, one only hanging on its lower hinges, the other lying inside the dark cavern.

            He didn’t even need to think, as he took his first step into the darkness. Not until he’d taken six more steps and the stench hit his nostrils. Sweet and rotten at the same time. He clamped his hand over his mouth and nose and whirled around, wishing for his lightsaber. He already knew what he would find. He had never seen a body, but he knew the smell of dead flesh.

            He reached inside his sleeve, pulling out the comm and turning on the beacon. His father needed to know where he was… now… and then he pushed the button that activated the holo. The face of his mother appeared. A recording. But he didn’t hear her words. He didn’t even see her face. All he could see was the dead, crumpled figure of his old master. Nej Antilles’s body was leaning against the wall, his eye sockets empty, staring out into the dark of the cave beyond.


	19. Salvage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I know this took forever! I had an important exam in Linguistics and thinking so much about language really messed with my ability to enjoy English. Just reading or listening to English terrified me, so you can imagine what writing in English did to me ;)
> 
> But I'm all better now and I'm writing again. This (rather long) chapter is the last but one for this fic. The Epilogue is already written. ;) Enjoy!

They’d been walking for hours now, trudging along through this wasteland of rock and dust, ignoring the heat and subsequent thirst. With every single step he took, Meelan cursed himself for not taking water along. Back in the Order, this wouldn’t have happened. He would have stuck to protocol, taken provisions, a map…

            Well, the Order was gone and so, it seemed, was his discipline. His way of rational thinking. And he would never have been required to go on a mission like this. Not only were rescue missions looked at as a waste of time, but there were people specialised in these sorts of operations. But those people had been spies… not interrogators… not communication officers.

He tripped, but didn’t fall. Meelan reached out and caught him by the arm, before he could. He could feel how clammy Dameron’s skin was underneath the shirt. Clammy and cold.

            Dameron’s eyes widened and there was more than annoyance in his voice. “Let go!” he hissed. His teeth looked almost pink and the glint of fear in his eyes almost made Meelan take a step back. But he didn’t. Neither did he relinquish his grasp on Dameron’s arm. The struggle his opponent put up was almost laughable.

            “I said: let go!”

            Meelan shook his head and pulled him closer, so their noses were almost touching.

“This is not about you, Dameron! You’re a liability!” Meelan could practically hear the blood pounding in his veins. This stubborn idiot was just the same as he had been during the war. “Stay here.”

            “No, you’re right. It’s about you, right?” Dameron was breathing heavily now. “Your attempt at redemption.”

            Meelan felt a pang and he let go of Dameron as though his hand was burned. Dameron stumbled for real now and fell against a rock, hands shaking. The grey was prominent in his hair now, glinting silver in the moonlight.

How dare he? How dare he accuse him of this, when his child’s life was on the line! “There’s no such thing,” Meelan said matter-of-factly, suppressing the urge to break Dameron’s nose again. It would have been too easy. “I have no idea how you can still have that antiquated notion.”

            Dameron’s shoulders twitched and it took him a moment to look up. To face him. Why did he even bother staying here? He should just leave Dameron here, maybe tie him up for good measure, and go looking for Yoann and Mia on his own. “Well, maybe it is,” Dameron huffed, sweat trickling down his forehead. He was going to collapse sooner rather than later, Meelan thought. “But the thing is… there are still some people who get there in the end. Not you though, by the looks of it.”

            With a snort, Meelan turned away from him. He didn’t have time for this. Neither for Dameron’s delusions, nor fruitless discussions. “Find shelter, Dameron. I’ll be back for you if I can.”

            “Morap did.”

            The name made him freeze like he was hit by a lightning bolt. He couldn’t move. The name was familiar, today as much as it had been twenty years ago. Maybe even more so… His hands curled into fists, as he stared out into the night. He hadn’t thought this much about his brother within a single day in such a long time. And it was Dameron who was responsible for it. How could it be otherwise. “And see where it got him,” Meelan said, his voice deadly calm. Ignoring the soft tickling sensation on his upper lip, he stared out into the night, at the jagged rocks, their edges sharp and rough in the semi light.

            Dameron scoffed and when Meelan turned around to look at him, he saw that Dameron was wiping something dark from his chin. “Maybe,” Dameron admitted, pushing himself off the rock. He couldn’t stand without swaying, but at least he was still on his feet. “But your brother had a good life before that.”

            “You’re pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?”

            Dameron grinned and shrugged as he made a step in the direction they’d been headed before. “Sometimes, but that’s not what I meant.” The grin was still there. It had a roguish quality. “Morap was free. Free of it all.”

            Meelan narrowed his eyes. The last time they had talked about his brother, Dameron didn’t know anything about Morap’s life before he had run off to the Republic. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Don’t I?” Dameron threw him a disgusted look. “I married a Stormtrooper, you know? I read the reports by other deserters. Believe me, I know.”

            It was no use. No use discussing this further. He pushed past Dameron, taking care to bump his shoulder into Dameron’s none too gently. Whatever Dameron thought he knew, he had no idea what Morap’s desertion had meant for him.

            Something hot right under his nose. He wiped his face. He couldn’t deal with that on top of everything else.

 

It didn’t even take them twenty more minutes to find the entrance to the cave. -How Dameron managed it, Meelan couldn’t tell, but the other man kept pushing himself to the limit of everything Meelan would have thought possible, while his own head had started pounding violently.

            “This must be it.” It was the first thing either of them had spoken in a while and Dameron’s voice sounded cracked, as though his tongue was refusing to obey his command.

            Meelan didn’t comment, but strode past Dameron into the cave, wishing for a blaster. They had little idea of what they were going to face here, and even though he knew that a blaster wouldn’t have been much help anyway, he felt his fingers aching for one. They were on their own on this strange planet, and if it really had been Antilles, who had kidnapped the children, then they were lost. Antilles was a fully trained Jedi and they were not only unarmed, but also sick. The both of them. Meelan didn’t even try to pretend like he wasn’t, but at least he was still more confident of his own abilities than he was of Dameron’s. The man could barely stand!

            He threw a look over his shoulder. The sun was rising glaringly red now, and he couldn’t make out much more than Dameron’s silhouette, but he was there. “Want to take a break?” Even a sick Dameron could be useful. If all else failed, he could just as well toss Dameron’s lifeless form at an assailant, Meelan though with a grim, unhappy smile.

            “What are you smiling about?” Dameron asked as he entered the semi shadow of the cave.

            Meelan shrugged and turned to face the tunnel ahead. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness. The red light streaming in from outside did little to illuminate what lay ahead, but there were fissures in the rock above, letting in light for the first few metres. With a bit of luck, they’d be able to find their way.

            “Weird smell,” Dameron commented and Meelan nodded. He could smell it, too, and he didn’t like that smell at all. It smelled sweet and rotten. His stomach turned, as he looked around, but there was no body here. Not even a dead rodent.

            “Whatever it is, it might be further inside,” he muttered. And then he saw the footprint in the reddish sand, where the traces of dirt from outside started to blend with the concrete floor. He swallowed hard. The footsteps led inside, but not back out. It didn’t have to mean anything, he reminded himself. The person might just as well have taken another way out of here. But the trace looked ominous. He looked around again, hoping to find anything he could use as a weapon, but apart from a few broken crates and the half-dislodged metal door, there was nothing here.

            “Shall we?” he asked and Dameron nodded, eyes fixed on the tunnel ahead.

            “Let’s.”

            The air inside the passage didn’t smell strange anymore. The scent grew ever fainter the further they advanced inside the tunnel. It grew colder and humid at the same time and Meelan felt a shiver run down his spine as he realized that it wasn’t getting any darker, even if the fissures above were no longer there. He pushed the thought away that at some point, the ceiling above might very well collapse and that, maybe, Yoann and Mia weren’t here at all. They’d just walked in, believing that this was the right way. They’d acted on a hunch, without even questioning it, when they knew they were very likely up against a powerful Force user, and if they failed, then their children were lost for good.

            Meelan swallowed, hard, tasting iron and hot wetness. Nataleeh was still out there, looking for them, he reminded himself. Nataleeh and Finn were on their way. If they failed here, Nathalee and Finn might still make it. His heart contracted painfully. Morap was safe, at least. For now.

            The passage went straight on, barely turning left or right. They reached three intersections, but didn’t even discuss whether or not to turn left or right. And then they saw the flickering lights ahead. Not natural light. It was far too bright for it. So bright, Meelan had to blink, when they entered the chamber. He barely held back a gasp. He remembered this place. Remembered the holos he had seen, as he had sorted through suitable locations for his organization. As they had decided to make sure the people of Birken Six only sold their produce to them and increase production. He remembered looking at the holo of this storage room, with its high, natural ceiling and the dripstones making their long way down. He remembered how he had worried about these stones indicating that this place might not be entirely suitable for long term storage.

            He pressed his lips together as he looked around at the empty cavern and breathed in the humid, icy air. There were no traces of crates now. There was nothing but puddles of stale water and mould here now. That, and the strings of cable overhead, a net weaving between the stalactites to hold up the flickering lamps.

            Four doors, or rather gates, led off this room, but two were inaccessible. The tunnels leading away from the room had collapsed, the rubble strewn like grey vomit onto the cracked concrete. They’d have to take the only other door still accessible to them, if they didn’t want to turn back. He wiped the sweat off his brow, ignoring the increasing pressure building up in his head. Meelan turned to talk to Dameron, but the other man was leaning against the wall, lips the colour of the concrete he was standing on, breath coming in gasps. He coughed, and blood splattered the ground. Without a conscious thought, Meelan rushed forward to catch him, before he could fall to the ground. “Damn you,” he hissed.

“Morap…” Dameron whispered. His eyelids were fluttering and as he looked up at him, Meelan saw how glassy that stare was. He should have left him on the ship! Should have tied him down and then he wouldn’t have to waste his time like this!

“He’s on the ship, Dameron.”

“You’re grey now.”

Meelan rolled his eyes and let go of Dameron. He didn’t have time for this. He’d go by himself. Suddenly Dameron’s hand was around his wrist, holding on to him with a strength Meelan wouldn’t have thought possible.

“We are on the clock here.”

“Haven’t we always been?” The hand started to slip, all the strength leaving it. “I-“

Before Meelan knew what he was doing, he had clasped Dameron’s hand.

“Morap…”

Meelan’s throat grew tight as he realized that Dameron wasn’t talking about his son, but talking _to_ his brother. The brother he had cursed over and over again. The one connection he shared with Dameron. The reason he had committed treason for once. He knelt down again and clasped Dameron’s hand, his heart racing. He had to hurry. He had to get his son… Dameron’s daughter.

Dameron’s eyes fell shut, but his lips were moving.

“I’m here,” he said and reached out to feel Dameron’s pulse. It wasn’t as strong as it could be, but at least it as steady. He was just hallucinating. Which was just as well. At least he didn’t realize what was going on then.

The corners of Dameron’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I got married,” he muttered, letting out a breath. The blood glistened on his chin and Meelan fought the impulse to wipe it away. “Finn… we have a kid…” His voice was getting slurred. Like it was blending in with his breaths. “She’s from… from here…” He coughed and Meelan let go of his hand, turning him on his side. He had no idea if what he was doing was right, but Dameron’s breathing seemed easier this way.

“Morap…” Dameron shuddered and Meelan felt his pulse again. This man, he reminded himself, had been his brother’s lover… hadn’t Morap died, he might just as well be his brother in law… they might still be enemies, but he still couldn’t let this man die. Not right away, anyway.

“I have to go,” he said and got up. “I’ll get your daughter.” At least he would try… if Yoann and Mia were here at all.

 

He had no idea where he was going, only that it seemed to be the right way. It had to be. It was. He kept pushing the image of Nej, lying dead on the floor, out of his mind. Now was not the time to think about the master he had once had.

            The voices made his heart beat faster. The door he was standing in front of was solid metal, the handle rusty. It looked as ancient as the entire complex did. Ancient and desolate. Whoever had mined this planet surely didn’t heed any sort of security advice. He didn’t much care, though. As long as he could get Mia and Yoann out of here alive, he didn’t give a damn about what happened, or had happened here.

            “Yoann?” he called, stretching out his hand to touch the door handle. The hinges on the right of the door seemed well tended. At least that was what the thin, shiny layer of oil suggested. He reached out to touch the handle. It was locked. No surprise there.

            “Morap?!”

            He let out a long breath and nodded. “Yes!”, he said, tears rushing to his eyes, blinding him temporarily. “Is Mia there?”, he asked breathlessly.

            “Yes!” He didn’t need the answer. He had felt the two kybers. How they had managed to get their hands on them, he didn’t know or care. “Step back!” he shouted and ignited his lightsaber. It came to life with the soft hum he had grown so used to. It felt warm and familiar in his hand. The acid green of the blade basked the door in front of him. Cutting lock and handle out of the door and the frame took no time at all. The saber cut through it like it was nothing and one single kick made the door fly open.

            The two faces blinking out at him in the green light looked far too thin, but whole nonetheless. Yoann grinned, his eyes shining with tears, as he practically flew into Morap’s arms. He switched off the blade and pulled his brother close, his heart racing. He was safe. Safe and whole.

            He hiccupped, blinking against the tears and the burning in his nose.

            “How did you find us?” Mia sounded suspicious, her narrowed eyes fixed on the lightsaber.

            “You have kybers,” he muttered and pushed Yoann away to look at his brother’s face. He was filthy, but there was not a single scratch. The brown eyes were huge, though and the lips cracked.

Yoann nodded. “We found them,” he replied and pulled out the miniscule, purple kyber. It wasn’t glowing, but Morap felt its presence nonetheless. Mia stretched out her hand, revealing a gem of the same colour.

“Still,” she said. “How do we know-“

“Do you _want_ to stay here?” Morap hissed.

She flinched, but didn’t avert her gaze. Headstrong, but more than clever, Morap realized. She was right. He could be anyone. She couldn’t sense if he was deceiving her. Without giving it another thought, he tossed his lightsaber at her and she caught it easily in her hand. She nodded curtly and gripped it tight. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Yoann laughed softly, his hand clenched around Morap’s arm. He was too old for this sort of behaviour, but Morap fully understood his brother’s need for reassurance. They’d have plenty of time to talk, once they were out of this mess.

“Where are we here?” Mia asked now and Morap raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t you know?”

Yoann shook his head. “Still not sure you’re real.”

Morap pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. “I came here with Ben,” he said quietly, unwilling to say any more about that nightmare of a landing and of what was awaiting them outside. At least, for now, he could be sure to have found Yoann and Mia. That all of this had been far too easy, was just another thought he had to push away for now. _Make it up as you go,_ he reminded himself. That was the best he could do under these circumstances. And only now did he realize that he hadn’t really paid attention to his surroundings. He had mostly focused on getting to the crystals… to his brother and Mia. The tunnel was long and dimly lit, with the odd crate here and there. As they crept along the corridor, the passed three of them, and then there was a soft breath of cool air. He froze.

“How could you sense the crystals?” Yoann asked. He looked nervous, constantly looking over his shoulder, as though he was expecting something to jump out at them from behind one of the crates. Mia stood there, stiff and arms crossed over her chest, mouth set in a thin line.

Morap took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But they are the only things I could sense at all.”

Mia nodded slightly. “Sounds familiar,” she muttered with a shudder. She gripped Morap’s lightsaber even tighter and nodded towards the narrow passage through which the constant breeze was coming. It was dark inside. Darker than the rest of the tunnel was, but on the far end, Morap could see the faintest shimmer.

“You sure?”

“Yoann?” Mia looked at her friend. “What do you think?”

_She still doesn’t trust me,_ Morap realized and when Yoann looked up at him, he could see that his brother, too, was unsure. What had happened to them?

Yoann let go of his sleeve and stood beside Mia. “You go first,” Yoann said, his voice firm, yet not entirely unfriendly.

With narrowed eyes, Morap took a step towards them, but Mia raised the hilt of the lightsaber in a gently threatening gesture. He stood still and nodded. “Fine,” he muttered with raised hands. Who could tell what had happened to them here. Why they wouldn’t trust him. Not even Yoann… he ignored the pang his brother’s mistrust gave him and moved forward. The rushing sound of the lightsaber coming to life behind him made him flinch. He turned around, cursing himself as he did so. Mia had ignited the lightsaber, providing light in the darkness. The glowing green made her features look almost unearthly and Yoann was paler now than ever before.

Morap took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay then,” he said with the slightest of nods as he started moving again. And he had to admit he was glad about the light Mia provided him with from behind. The formerly concrete floor was strewn with debris, the dark rocks on their left and right protruding further into the tunnel than they must have, when this mining outpost had still been operational.

And then another voice made him freeze again. “I have to go.” The voice echoed through the hallway, drifting in through a corridor on their right. And then that voice added something else.

“Dad!” Yoann shouted, and before Morap could stop him, his younger brother had started running towards that voice. How could Yoann trust this voice, but not his brother? What if this was a trap?

Morap’s heart sank, but he was unable to reach out to Yoann, to tell him to stop. He shouted his name, but Yoann didn’t listen, he kept running and Morap didn’t have a choice. Mia started running the same time as he did, running flat out towards the origin of that voice. He could already see it, his father’s frame, as it was revealed by Yoann’s silhouette. Meelan looked startled, overwhelmed, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his youngest son into his arms. No trap then. At least, it didn’t look like one. Morap rushed through the door and stopped dead in his tracks, as he spotted Dameron lying unconscious on the floor, droplets of blood splattered on the concrete around him.

“What-“

“You were supposed to be on the ship!” Meelan hissed, but Morap didn’t listen. He didn’t have time to turn around, to warn Mia. To tell her not to come closer. She had been right at his heels and when she saw her father lying there, she gave a howl, so desperate, it turned his blood to ice. He stepped aside, making room for her to kneel down next to Dameron, whose face was paler than ever before.

“Papa…”, she whispered, her voice choked as she leaned over Dameron and brushed the greying hair out of his eyes. Dameron was breathing. That much was sure. How could his father have been so stupid and taken this sick man along with him?

“I got them out, didn’t I?” Morap snapped, unable to look at Mia and her dying father anymore. And then he saw the blood on Meelan’s collar. The traces of it on his chin. “Dad…” he whispered, not comprehending that it had been years since he’d called his father that.

Meelan shook his head, jaw set. “You were sick,” he muttered and only then did Morap realize that he didn’t even feel remotely dizzy anymore.

“I’m okay,” he said and gulped. But his father wasn’t. And neither was Dameron. He didn’t have the energy to ponder the implications. Not right now. “We should get out.” If Dameron could be moved, that was. He saw his father nod and let go of Yoann.

“Are you alright?” he addressed the girl kneeling next to the lifeless form on the ground. She had dropped the lightsaber as soon as she’d seen her father. It lay feet from her, useless and obsolete in view of the impending loss. Her fear and desperation radiated from her like something palpable. Something living. But Dameron wasn’t dead. Not yet.

She didn’t react, but leaned forward to kiss her father’s brow. “Wake up, Papa,” she pleaded softly and Morap half expected her to start crying… but she seemed to be out of tears. It happened, before he knew it could. Dameron’s eyelids flickered. He coughed, more blood splattering the ground. But the droplets were more pink than scarlet. As though her words were the one and only thing capable of dragging him back up. To resurface once more. He was still weak. Weak, but awake. It wasn’t likely he’d get better, but at least he was partly awake.

“I’m here, Papa…” her voice was gentle, but firm. She was confident.

And then it struck him… he whirled round to Yoann, whose eyes were wide and whose surprise he could sense. He could feel it, and everyone else’s aura. And so, by the looks of it, could Yoann.

“What?” Meelan asked, but before either Yoann or Morap could answer, they could hear the rattling of metal behind them. Morap whirled around. The lightsaber, which had lain on the ground was gone. The saber ignited, green flashing in the dark. The ground started to shake, making it next to impossible to keep standing. Morap reached for his brother, pulled him close. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mia throwing herself over Dameron, before his view was obscured by the dust. But he didn’t have to rely on his eyes anymore. Not entirely.

The vastness of the darkness was there again, out of reach, but still there, looming over them. He could sense it. Its strength and the incredible terror it held. The saber advanced and Morap pushed his father out of the way. Meelan collapsed, where he was.

“Yoann,” Morap whispered. “Don’t let it come too close.” He heard the rumble, and the rocks overhead started to vibrate.

“It’s Nej!” Yoann shouted, but Morap found that he wasn’t entirely surprised. “Don’t believe it,” he said. “Don’t believe anything you see.” He knew that what he said had a ring of truth to it, even though he couldn’t quite explain why, as the form of Nej Antilles drew nearer, Morap’s lightsaber raised high above his head. His eyes were yellow. Yellow and distant. All traces of death washed off the once so familiar face.

“Not so idiotic after all,” the creature wearing Nej’s body hissed, bearing its broken teeth.

“Who are you?” Morap could see his father’s body twitching on the ground. He reached for the Force, grateful to feel its touch again. It was as though he was finally able to breathe again, even if he knew exactly why he could. Why it was easier now. The creature needed the Force. Needed it to finish them.

“I need no name.” Morap reached for Yoann’s hand, as he felt the impact. The Force turning on him. Working against him. He was thrown back, Yoann’s hand all he could feel. All he could hold on to, as the pain erupted in his very chest, tearing him apart. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. All there was, was pain, the green flashes of his own lightsaber and Yoann. Yoann’s hand. His brother’s fingers curled tightly around his own. And that other aura. That aura, which got stronger. That aura, which was so different from the pain. The almighty power.

Morap gasped and sat up. Meelan was lying feet from him, curled in on himself, a deep cut on his forehead, legs buried beneath a heavy boulder.

Someone tugged at him. Yoann.

Morap shook his head, trying to clear it. But it was impossible. It seemed impossible. His eyes fell on Mia. Mia, standing upright, holding her crystal out against the nothingness. This thing he couldn’t see. There was nothing but purple light anymore. Nothing but this one, single thing in the constant of darkness. No other colour, but purple…

Yoann moved, let go of Morap. The destruction was here. So close… Nej was gone, his form no more than a heap of crumpled clothes on the ground.

And there it was.

The lightsaber. He could sense the crystal within, pulsing softly, almost calling to him. Morap reached out, even though he knew the blade wouldn’t do him any good. Not against this enemy he couldn’t even see anymore. The lightsaber flew into his hands. He blinked, and darkness enveloped him. All he could do, was push against the breath-taking nothing. His eyes didn’t see, his skin didn’t feel. All around him was nothing and the other two kybers. The pressure increased, threatening to crush not only him, but also the two others… Mia… Yoann. And his father… he could sense them. His father first, then Dameron. The other two shone even brighter, straining towards each other. Towards him. Morap didn’t even hesitate. but reached towards them in turn. An uneven triangle of brightest light, as the emptiness threatened to suck them all in. But his father and Dameron would be first. First these two, then the rest of the world, possibly even the galaxy. It reached out towards them. Toward the three glowing crystals and Morap realized what it was up to. It needed them. Needed them, these Force sensitive beings to become even more powerful. Like it had used so many others before to bend beings to the dark side.

He didn’t need to communicate with the others. They knew it already. Fighting back against this overwhelming power was draining. Already the universe blurred into nothing. He gasped, when he felt the power hesitate for a split second. They took their chance. As one, they struck back, not knowing what they were doing, simply allowing the Force to flow through them.

It gave way; seemed to crack. And then there was nothing.

But he could breathe freely.

He was warm.

Not lost.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I really struggled with this chapter and I didn't know if it would indeed turn out the way I wanted it to. I guess it did. It was rough going there for a while, especially the final part and I have to admit I'm rather anxious about your reactions.


	20. Promise Renewed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last chapter! I'm uploading the epilogue straight away, just so you know.

_Promise Renewed_

 

The pressure on his arm was uncomfortable.

            _He’s furious._

It was the first thing that came to his mind. Finn was angry.

            His eyelids were heavy. Far too heavy to open them. But Finn knew he was awake. Where was Ace? Shouldn’t he be jumping on his stomach by now? The yapping wasn’t there. Neither was the dog’s heavy breathing, or Mia’s shrill, happy laughter. Where was Mia? Mia…  he had trouble breathing all of a sudden and a chill ran down his spine.

            The warm hand brushed hair from his forehead.

            Mia was missing.

            His eyes flew open and the first thing he saw was Finn. Eyes shifting from cool and distant to warm and comforting within a heartbeat. The patch of grey stubble on his cheeks a clear indicator that he hadn’t slept in days. Finn usually took care to shave every day. “Where is she?” Poe tried to ask, but all that came out of his mouth was a hoarse whisper. And wasn’t he supposed to be dead?

            “She’s sleeping,” Finn said, as he sat down on the edge of the bed… a bed. He was lying in a bed.

            Poe tried to take in his surroundings without much success. All he could make out was the sterile white of a hospital room and the antiseptic smell that came along with it. “And the boys?”

            Finn nodded and took Poe’s hand into his. “All fine.” He took a deep, shuddering breath and the pressure on Poe’s hand increased.

            “Sorry,” Poe muttered. He would have felt the same, had he been in Finn’s shoes and he knew he had been irresponsible, storming out into the unknown in his condition. Still, he would have done it again and again.

            “Is she okay?”

            Finn blinked and closed his eyes for a moment. “She is… not thanks to you, I might add.” He swallowed hard and looked down at him again. He didn’t need to say any more. Poe knew Finn was furious and that anger would take a while to abate.

            “What happened?”

            Finn shrugged. “Whatever it was that attacked them-“

            “Attacked them?!” Poe sat up, or at least he tried to, before Finn grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him down again.

            “Will you shut up and listen?” Finn shook his head, a wayward smile playing around his lips. “You were out cold, I know. The thing causing this Plague and this weird Force vacuum was there. It attacked them, but as far as I know, they fought back.” The smile vanished. “Ren got them out. Got all of you out. We arrived just as he came out with you.” He swallowed hard. “I thought you were dead.”

            Poe nodded, eyes fixed on Finn. “I know, buddy. Me too.” He didn’t smile. That expression was as far away from his muscle memory as it possible could. He clasped Finn’s hand in his. “I have to ask… what happened to Bendar?”

            With a roll of his eyes, Finn looked to his left. “Fast asleep.”

            Poe closed his eyes and nodded softly. He had a feeling he had said some weird stuff to Bendar. But he wouldn’t even try to remember what he had said. For now, he was just glad that Mia and the other kids were safe. That he was alive. He looked up at Finn again and tugged at his hand. “How come, I have the pleasure of talking to you now? You saved me again?”

            Finn’s lips twitched into a smile as he shook his head. “Thank you for your confidence in me.” He bent over him and pressed his lips to his forehead. “But no, I didn’t. At least I didn’t do the main part. When that thing fled, the plague started to abate. It’s receding. No one is dying anymore. But the recovery will take quite a while.”

            Poe raised his eyebrows. “How long was I out?”

            “About two weeks.”

            Poe took a deep breath. Two weeks was a long time. But it could have been worse. Much worse. “Are we okay?”

            Finn’s nod came without a moment’s hesitation and he pressed Poe’s hand to his lips. “We’re okay,” he assured him. “We’re back on Chandrila and now that you’re awake, I guess I can take you home.”

            “Bendar?”

            “I don’t know,” Finn said, and a shadow darkened his features for a moment. “But I suppose, since he helped the kids and risked his life, he’s going to go free. You might have to face charges at some point though.” He shook his head. “What a mess.”

            “It’s okay.” He’d be fine, he was sure of it. He might have run away from his responsibilities to the New Republic and taken a man, who was still on parole, along with him, but they hadn’t harmed any one… they might get off. No, the chances of that were rather high. “Ha’roon?”

            “On Askija. Luke offered to train him. But the deal with the Federation is out of the question now, of course.”

            “Of course…” Poe huffed, as his eyes started to burn with weariness. “Can you tell Mia to wake me, when she’s up again?” His eyelids fell shut.

            “Not a chance, Commander Dameron.”

            “Shut up.”

            “Will do.”

 

Ben was loading crates onto the _Falcon._ He’d spent some time with his mother, Morap knew, trying to avoid going back to Askija. But now it was time for him to return.

            Morap squeezed Embee’s hand and kissed her temple. He’s be back. They’d make this work, he was sure of it.

“Good luck, then.” Embee smiled and let go of his hand. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.” She’d go to Askija herself. They needed a new mechanic desperately. Now, that Hux was dead.

Nathalee had told him, and the expression on her face was not something he’d forget to soon. Hux and she had been friends for a while, after all and Morap sensed that there was more she wasn’t telling him.

“Thanks,” Morap grinned, as he watched Ben pick up one of the last crates. He should be helping, he knew, but he wasn’t quite ready to leave Embee yet. “You know, I think… uh…” he let out a huff. Ever since their return to Chandrila, he’d spent every free moment he didn’t spend with his family, with her. The problem about that was, was that he hadn’t managed to get the thing he’d wanted to get her, since she’d almost always been nearby. And now he’d run out of time.

His eyes darted over the ground, until he found what he was looking for. He felt foolish, but then again, he’d rather do it this way than not at all. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Hang on.” He bent low and picked up the thin, silver screw. There was a thin layer of grease on it, but he didn’t much care. She was familiar with grease after all. “I’ll do this properly later, I promise.” He could already picture his father’s exasperated grimace, when he told him about this, and he was probably right.

Morap screwed up his face in concentration, as he reached out to the Force, urging it to do his bidding. The thin, metal object turned and twisted, until it was almost a perfect circle. Luckily the end of it wasn’t sharp or pointed. He smiled broadly and handed the makeshift ring to Mia. “Let’s do this, huh?” He felt his face turn scarlet, but he didn’t much mind. They’d talked about this once before. Years ago, really. On the day, he had found his kyber.

She laughed, and his heart dropped. But before he could pull back his hand, she had wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was full of promise.

 

 


	21. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 

Yoann smiled, his eyes twinkling as he pulled Mia close to kiss her. The silver engagement ring with the almost transparent, oval lavender stone gleamed in the soft light, as she reached out to cup his cheeks with her hands. She was beaming. She had been all day. And now, as they were revolving slowly on the dance floor, Morap couldn’t help but grin, when he heard his father’s soft groan.

            “That’s not how it’s supposed to be done…” he muttered, but when he put his hand over his mouth, Morap saw that his father was smiling despite himself.

            Embee reached for his hand, squeezing it softly. He moved his thumb over the back of her hand, until he felt the metal. The screw he had pulled out in desperation one day. The screw he had twisted into a makeshift ring to put on her finger eleven years ago.

            “Aren’t you supposed to be married yet?” Poe asked and Morap shrugged.

            “Wouldn’t dream of stealing the show from my brother,” Morap replied and Poe nodded appreciatively, before he turned back to watch his daughter dance with her new husband. Behind them, Morap spotted Finn and his mother leaning against a pillar, talking in whispers as they stared at their children.

            Yoann stood on Mia’s dress, making her stumble, but he caught her quickly, laughing loudly. “This was bound to happen,” he grinned, before he let go of Mia’s hand. “Guess I should dance with one of the Damerons now?” His eyes immediately flew to Poe, who set his glass down on the table.

“Fine, but don’t step on my toes, boy!”

Mia shook her head, kissed Poe on the cheek and then reached out a hand towards Meelan, while Finn waved over Embee and Morap took his mother by the elbow. “Let’s do this,” he smiled at her. Her eyes were sparkling, and he knew very well that she was fighting hard to suppress the tears.

The New Jedi Order was here. All of them. They had survived the Plague. The entity hadn’t shown up again. Luke and Rey were sitting at the edge of the circle. The beings he, Mia and Yoann had studied with, were all here. Even Ben had made it. At least for a while. He had departed shortly after the ceremony and Morap couldn’t blame him. Ben had lost everything and he despised big gatherings.

Poe laughed at Yoann. “You’re terrible at this,” he teased.

“You’re not too got yourself,” Morap heard Finn say, as he moved around the dance floor with Embee, while Meelan kept a straight face. It was clear how much he didn’t like the attention he got as the father of the bride.

But still, Morap couldn’t help grinning. The expression wouldn’t leave his face for a single moment. He let go of his mother, when the song changed and she was swept up my Meelan, and they started dancing in a routine, Morap had never seen. Yoann grabbed Mia’s hand and pulled her off the dancefloor to get some more cake. How either of them could eat any more was a mystery to Morap.

Shaking his head, Finn strode towards Poe and wrapped him in his arms. They looked ridiculously happy. Still besotted with each other. Like teenagers.

Embee was close to him. He could smell her perfume, before her hand touched his. “Aren’t you going to dance with me?” she asked with a sheepish grin, knowing full well that he was an utter disaster at this. But so was she.

Everything balanced out in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it... the last installment of the Unkown Limits series is done. 
> 
> I'd like to thank [AuroraLynne](http://auroralynne.tumblr.com) for practically forcing me to write more. She's the one who inspired me so much with her drawings and her endless ideas about my OCs. She's Morap's true mother and she's the reason Meelan has become such a big OC. She also named Poe's and Finn's kid. In fact, she's great at coming up with names and emotional twists and turns, which is exactly why I named her as co-author and why I kept writing this fic. She's become a great friend to me, my soul sister and I had the pleasure of meeting her and her awesome sister this year. Truly wonderful people. Thank you!
> 
> Anyway... I hoped you guys liked this fic. Your comments kept me going, when I felt desperate. This fic has been harder to write than I would have thought possible, but it was also a lot of fun. I'd also like to thank the SWWA for their support <3 This has been a stressful year, but writing has been a constant throughout. Thanks for your support, everyone!
> 
> So this is it.... see you around! Time for me to start working on my other fic and my novel again.
> 
> THANKS FOR READING!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this ;)
> 
> If you have the time, please let me know what you think
> 
> Please feel free to visit me on my tumblr ([Sourlander](http://sourlander.tumblr.com)) and say hi!


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